


Aftermath

by Ocean_Blue



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ocean_Blue/pseuds/Ocean_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unbeknown to Hannibal he is drugged and whilst under their influence he injuries Face. They are still in the army, in an established relationship and both struggle to cope with the aftermath of the event. Can they, with the help of their team mates, get over what happened?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

Aftermath

As far as parties went it couldn’t go quickly enough as far as Hannibal was concerned. Face, despite being forced to attend, looked now as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself which only added to Hannibal’s annoyance. He was off in a corner with a group of brand new, fresh out of the box officers, regaling them with exaggerated and some purely made up tales of missions and life on army bases on foreign soils and they were hanging on his every word. The group exploded into laughter as Face finished his latest tall story and as if knowing he was being watched, the kid looked up and meet Hannibal’s eyes, an almost secretive smile playing across his lips before he turned back to his appreciative audience.

Hannibal’s eyes lingered on the well fitting dress pants that emphasised the shape of his muscled thighs and provided a tantalising glimpse of his ass as he lent forward from where he was standing to put his now empty beer glass on a table. Hannibal knew that it was not his imagination that Face paused longer than necessary in that position, before standing upright again and slowly removing his jacket and loosening his tie and top button. The kid knew he was still watching and Hannibal knew this little show was payback for making him come to this event, as was the flirting he’d been doing with the cute little Corporal Jane Wilson.

“What do think Sir?”

The hesitant, voice to his right side didn’t startle him, he had been peripherally aware of the young soldiers approach even with his main focus on his Lieutenant. When the question was not answered immediately the nervous young man qualified his question, “About the party sir. What do you think?”

Hannibal inwardly sighed and turned to look at the young man now standing nervously beside him. What he was thinking at that moment in time whilst watching Face would probably make this kid die of embarrassment or shock. What the hell was recruitment thinking accepting children like this into the Ranger programme? This kid looked terrified and Hannibal had been aware of him trying to get up the courage to come over for a while now. If he was this scared just approaching a US army Colonel, what the hell would he be like faced with someone like Tuco. Glancing around the room at the others he knew were for Ranger School, he still had not seen anyone he himself would have accepted. 

The boy shifted on his feet and cleared his throat, looking away, “I helped organise it Sir. We were expecting General Marshall to attend, that is why there is a golf theme. When we found out you were coming instead, it was too late to change it Sir.”

Hannibal looked back at him, “I’m sorry if I disappointed you Baines.”

A horrified expression passed over the kids face, “No, no Sir. I didn’t mean that. I mean you are Colonel Hannibal Smith Sir. I mean……I….. We’re honoured that you’re here. It’s just, well, I wasn’t sure that you like golf Sir.”

The voice practically trailed off at the end and Hannibal swallowed down his next comment. If this boy was going to make it as a Ranger, he was going to have to toughen up quick, but his being an ass to him now would not help and would be like kicking a puppy.

“I think you’ve done a good job with it Baines. Everyone seems to be having a good time. What are you doing with your three weeks leave son?”

Baines looked relieved rather than happy at the praise, “I’m staying on base Colonel Sir. Preparing for the start of training.”

“Umm, well it’s good to be prepared, but don’t forget to have a little fun as well.” Looking over at the group of would be Rangers on the other side of the room, Hannibal nodded towards them, “The rest of your group staying?”

“Most of them Sir.”

He noticed Face walking across his line of sight, heading outside an unlit cigar in his mouth and a lighter in his hand. Putting his hand onto Baines’ shoulder he smiled down at him, “Well you’re going to be relying on each other through training son, so get to know them better. Learn to work as a team and watch out for each other. More than anything else they teach you in Ranger School, watching each others backs will get you through. Good luck Baines.” Hannibal moved his hand down to shake the boy’s hand and seeing the young Corporal‘s nervous, awe struck expression as he moved away he thought, you’re going to need it.

_______________________________

Hannibal looked around outside noting the most likely places outside the circle of light emanating from the building that Face would have gone. Seeing the flare of the lighter off in the stand of big trees to the right he made his way over.

“Did you enjoy playing with the new soldiers?”

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he made out Face leaning against one of the large tree trunks, smiling and he took the proffered lit cigar, inhaling deeply. He could not help but compare the kid this man in front of him had once been, with the one he had just left in the hall behind him. One nervous, respectful, and awestruck, where the other had been cocky, disrespectful almost to the point of a court martial , and much too world weary for someone of the age he had been.

“Soldiers? From what I’ve seen tonight it’s more like the Scouts. If that boy in there is what we‘ve got coming through I‘m glad I‘ll be retired before they‘re likely to have to back me up.”

Face snorted a laugh, “Only a year Hannibal. One year and that boy could be a fully fledged Ranger.”

“He won’t make it.”

“You’re so sure?”

“Yes I am.”

Face took the cigar from Hannibal’s fingers and managed to take in one draw before the Colonel swiped it back pointing it at him accusingly, “Smoking’s bad for you.”

Releasing the smoke from his lungs slowly Face ignored the remark saying thoughtfully, “I’d take the boy scout in there over the other six that are going through” At Hannibal’s questioning look he continued, “There’s something about them. They are just too arrogant.” Hannibal’s expression changed to one of disbelief, “Yeah I know, coming from me that’s something. But I don’t know Boss I can’t explain it. There’s something….. I don’t know, something nasty about them.” Seeing the Colonel’s mocking expression, he became defensive, “I’m telling you Hannibal they’re trouble.”

Having known Face for so many years, experience told him that Face’s hunches were not often wrong, “Maybe.” he conceded, “But not our problem Kid. General Marshal is in charge of them and we will be shipping out in a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah about that, rumour has it that the good General, who forced you to deputise at this wonderful event due to an urgent unexpected meeting, was seen loading his golf clubs into his Bentley this morning.”

“Well rank has its privileges Face.”

He got a pout in return, “Yeah well, I could have stayed at the house with B.A. and Murdock for the table tennis tournament. I would have won. You didn’t need me here as well.”

With an expression of mock sympathy Hannibal pulled him further round the tree so that they were hidden entirely from the building and rested his hands on Face’s slim hips. “Course I needed you here. How else was I supposed to get through this mind numbing event.” Leaning in, he rubbed his groin against Face’s letting him feel his slightly hardening cock, “Nice little display you put on in there kid.”

“Ummm, glad you liked it Colonel.” leaning forward Face’s lips brushed against Hannibal’s as he whispered, “Because watching is all you’ll be doing,” and he neatly side stepped out of Hannibal’s hold and headed towards the hall without even a glance backwards.

Smiling the Colonel watched him go, finishing the cigar which had been lit for him. One more drink. That was all they would stay for before he would get them out of here. Adoration and hero worship that due to his reputation he had been receiving all evening from a lot of the newly commissioned officers and special forces hopefuls held no attraction for him. The honest, open, relationship that he had with Face was based on both of them being fully aware of each others faults and loving each other anyway. It was part of why they were rock solid even through the pressure of living and working together. In fact he mused, the whole team was based on that, even if he and Face had the added complication of being lovers to contend with.

Walking back up to the car park he extinguished his cigar on the gravel before heading inside. One more drink and then they would head home where he would enjoy getting thoroughly fucked by his lover. The glint in Face’s eyes earlier had alluded to just that event and Hannibal was in the same mind set tonight. He loved, absolutely and totally loved being inside of Face, but equally the feeling of his lover opening him up, taking him, made him feel complete, made him feel connected in a way that nothing else could. A way that he needed after an evening of being fawned over and looked at as if he was a cross between Superman and Captain America.

___________________________________________

Baines joined his five colleagues at their table and became instantly suspicious of the muffled laughter and continuous glances across to the other side of the room. Of the six others who had like himself been accepted into Ranger School he only knew two of them well. Even though they had all just finished basic training, only Medway and Hampton had been in his class. Having finally worked up the courage to approach Colonel John ‘Hannibal’ Smith, he now thought back over what he had said to him. Learn to work as a team. Look out for each other. That is what he had thought that the army was all about. Before he had met Medway, Hampton and now the rest of their little gang. They certainly did not look out for anyone but themselves and although he knew and accepted that hazing and practical jokes were all part of the army. These guys took it to a new level. A level that was tainted with cruelty and bullying, even amongst each other and seeing their behaviour now, he knew they had something going.

‘Roddi’ Rodriguez was only one missing and following the direction of their glances, sure enough he spotted him at the bar standing very close Colonel Smith. Putting his attention back to the five at the table he tried to work out what was going on.

Listening in to the hushed conversation, he made out the phrases, ‘he has drunk from it’ and ‘spiked’ and his heart fell. What the hell had they done this time?

Rodriguez arrived back at the table, sitting down and held up his glass before downing his drink in one. “Nice try fellas, but I saw Medway put the stuff in there, so I swapped it.”

“You bastard.” Medway worriedly looked down at his own empty glass.

“Not with yours idiot, with the great Colonel Smith over there.”

The whole table fell totally still as all eyes looked at Rodriguez and then as one turned to look at the Colonel who was absently putting his practically finished drink back down on the bar, whilst talking to the newly commissioned officers from B Battalion.

“You fucking Moron.” Hampton glared back at Rodriguez.

“What did you put in there?” Not sure that he really wanted to know, but having to ask, Baines stared over at Medway.

“Angel Dust.”

“PCP? Are you crazy.”

“Shut the fuck up Weasel.” Hampton looked back over to Colonel Smith who was now with his Lieutenant, both of them heading out the door. “It’s alright, we’re okay, we can get out of this.”

“Are you crazy?” Baines repeated getting up from his seat, “We have to warn them, that’s stuffs dangerous.”

He was grabbed from all sides and pulled back into his seat and looking up, he found Hampton right in his face.

“Sit down and shut up Weasel. If they’ve left, there’s less chance of them tracing anything back to us.” Hampton turned to face Medway, “If you’ve got any left ditch it quick. Roddi, did anyone see you near Smith’s glass?”

“No man. It was too crowded at the bar, I was covered. I thought it would be funny. I thought you put those laxatives in it again. Like last time.” He was looking worried now, “I never would have swapped it with his drink if I’d known.”

Baines tried to stand up and was again held down, “Come on guys, what if he tries to drive. We’ve got to tell them.”

“And then all our careers are over Weasel. That what you want? To have gone through all that in basic and to be accepted into Ranger School for nothing.” Hampton glared at him.

No that was not what he wanted. More importantly it was not what his father wanted. His father, who for the first time ever had said that he was proud of him when he passed the test for the elite training. He shook his head, “No.”

Hampton softened his glare and loosened the grip on his shoulder, “We didn’t even put that much in. He’ll probably be fine anyway.”

Baines did not try to get up again and feeling like the nickname they had labelled him with he kept quiet.  
___________________________

Hannibal was glad to be leaving. It was beginning to feel much too warm in the hall and he ushered Face out wanting to get into the cooler night air. As he went through the door he uncharacteristically tripped over the chair which was propping it open, allowing air to circulate into the hall. Anger surged through him and turning quickly he kicked the door with a force usually reserved for combat situations. The loud bang could be heard even over the music playing inside and a small group of privates from the catering corps who were standing just in the hall looked up. Face had turned back when he had stumbled and now moved toward him. 

“Fuck, Boss that must have hurt.” Amusement coloured his voice, but there was surprise in his expression.

But it hadn’t hurt. It should have, but hadn’t. Feeling exposed with the caterers inside still staring, Hannibal had an intense need to get away and whirled angrily around, “Just shut up and get the fucking car Lieutenant.” At the shouted words the privates looked embarrassed, some shuffling their feet, others looking nervously away.

Holding his hands up in surrender Face backed away, “Whoa, Okay,” and turning around he jogged over to their car pulling the keys out of his pocket.

Looking back into the depths of the hall, Hannibal saw eyes staring out at him. No bodies, no faces, just eyes. Unblinking and looking right into him. Covering his face with his hands he shook his head, trying to block out the image and regain some control, some sense of himself. A strange and frightening detachment was creeping into him as if it was filling his body and pushing him outside to watch. 

By the time the car pulled up behind him, Hannibal felt he was back in control and slid into the passenger seat. As Face started the drive through the deserted county roads back to the house, Hannibal tried to focus on his breathing rather than the fear that would not entirely leave him. The fear that was lurking inside just waiting for him to let down his guard. One deep breath in and one out. As long as he concentrated on that he would be fine. 

“Hannibal, what’s wrong?“

The quite voice interrupted his concentration. Was Face deliberately trying to put him off? 

“Did something happen back there?“

There he was again, how could he focus when the kid would not shut up?

“Come on Hannibal, this isn’t because I was flirting with that little corporal is it?”

His rising anger at Face disappeared when his attention was caught by the tall, slim, figures scurrying across the fields out of the side window, “STOP.”

As soon as the car came to a halt, Hannibal was out and standing by the edge of the road in seconds, but the figures had gone. He searched frantically needing to know where they were. What line of attack they would take.

He was not aware of Face beside him until he heard a clip being loaded and he tore his eyes away from the fields to see the Lieutenant with his gun ready standing beside him.

“Hannibal, what is it?”

“Nothing. I just thought I saw something, that’s all.”

Face looked out, scanning the area with a snipers eye looking for the tinniest movement, the slightest thing out of place. “I don’t see anything Hannibal.”

“No it must have been a trick of the light.” They may have retreated to re-group….. or maybe they did not exist and clenching his fist tightly Hannibal did not know which would be the worse truth. Either way they need to leave right now and Face would not do that if he told him about the figures. So instead he just moved back to the car.

“Hannibal are you alright?”

“Fine.” Come on, come on thought Hannibal, follow me here kid, just get back in the car. We need to get back in the car.

“Are you sure? You’re acting a little weird here.”

“I’m fine.” Hannibal snapped, desperate now for them both to get back in the vehicle and relief flooded him when Face tucked his gun into his belt and got back into the driver’s seat.

Just as Hannibal opened the passenger door, he glanced up ahead to where the headlights illuminated the road and had the strangest feeling that he was standing in that light looking back at himself.

“Boss?“ he turned back to see Face leaning over the seats peering up at him looking worried, “Hannibal are you okay?”

The voice sounded a long way off and even as he watched Face’s lips move he could not hear him. Instead of his Lieutenants safe familiar tone he heard other, sinister voices, whispering so he could not understand them, but he knew, knew that they wanted him to know that they were there, waiting for him and he felt afraid. Hannibal ran his tongue over dry lips and got back in the car. Face was in the car, he would help. Or would he? What if Face was working with them? What if this was not really Face? Moving across the seat so he was as far away from Face as he could get, he wound his hand tightly around the seat belt where it came out of the side of the car. He could feel it cutting into the side of his palm. As long as he could feel that he would be okay. But as the journey progressed, the less he could feel anything in his hand and reality slipped away.

Something was very wrong. Face spared another quick glance over at the Colonel who was almost frantically pulling everything out of the glove compartment and throwing each item out of the window. At first, as they had left the party Face had figured that Hannibal was royally pissed at something. That either he had gone too far with the flirting or something else had happened in the hall that he had been unaware of. Then with the strange behaviour at the side of the road and when they had got back in the car, he knew that something else was going on. 

As he had resumed driving, Hannibal’s behaviour had taken a dramatic turn, he had pressed himself so hard against the door, Face had almost feared that it would burst open and he was not responding to anything Face said to him. It had not taken him long to work it out, with a sinking feeling in his gut Face knew that Hannibal was not pissed, he was stoned. He had seen enough people spaced out on drugs in his time to be able to see what was happening here. Which drug though, that he did not know.

Hannibal would not take drugs so that left him ingesting them either accidentally or someone had given them to him deliberately. If it was the later then it could be part of a planned attack and they could be following or waiting up ahead, ready to come in when they were vulnerable. Whatever the fuck was going on, he needed backup and he needed it fast.

Shifting in his seat, Face moved a hand off the wheel towards his pants pocket, hoping to be able to get his phone out whilst Hannibal was focused on the glove compartment. He needed help. He needed the guys here and his fingers had just brushed his phone when a scream pierced the air.

Hannibal had both of his arms up covering his face, his hands gripping his own hair so tightly that Face could see some strands had been pulled out. His long legs were kicking out into the foot well with as much force as his position allowed and the screaming was more like a sound from a wild animal than a human being. It was a sound so alien to the man who was making it that for a split second Face wondered if it was coming from elsewhere.

Trying to keep his voice calm and soothing yet loud enough to be heard, Face tried to get through to him, “It’s okay Hannibal. You are safe in here. It’s all good. Everything’s fine.” Face thought that he was getting though when the screaming stopped and dividing his attention between Hannibal and the road, Face missed it when Hannibal quickly moved his arms down and was startled when he glanced back to see wild, glassy blue eyes staring right at him.

Torn between stopping the car and trying to help or keeping on going to reach the house, Face bit at his lower lip. He had to keep going, they were not that far from the house now and if he could try and reach for his phone again to make that call then B.A. and Murdock could head out and meet up with them.

“See Hannibal it’s all okay. We’re nearly home now Boss, just a few more miles.”

Hannibal watched in growing terror as the tall impossibly thin figure crawled off the windscreen in through the side window. He watched as it reached with its obscenely long arms and used it’s claw like fingers to puncture into Face’s body and head, enveloping him before slithering inside, joining with him before destroying him. The thing that now looked across at him had his lover’s bright blue eyes, but nothing else remained. The face was now long and distorted, the gaping mouth with lips melting was too horrific to look at, so he closed his eyes. Face was gone. If he had ever really been there at all.

A soft scraping noise forced Hannibal’s eyes back open and he found himself staring straight into the car’s wing mirror and he shrank back into his seat, at the sight of the tall figure crawling slowly along the side of the car. Despite the terror and panic that gripped him, he could not look away, staring transfixed as the figure got closer, until a loud thud from the roof startled him enough to look up. The roof was dented inwards towards the back of the car and he could hear the scratching as whatever was up there moved forward. Hannibal looked across and the figure driving was looking back at him, it’s shoulder’s shaking with laughter. A grotesque hissing sound escaping with each convulsion. 

There had to be a way out. There was always a way out, if only he could think through the terror that consumed him

Face moved his hand back slowly towards his pocket not wanting to spook the man beside him. Hannibal’s expression was one he had never seen before, a strange mixture of fear and anger with something else that he could not put a name to, but sent a chill up his spine. As he glanced down Hannibal suddenly lunged across the car, slamming all of his body weight into Face and pushing the steering wheel hard to the side. As the car veered across the road, Face looked up and shouted, “Hannibal.” Adrenaline kicked in as Face could see they were headed straight for a stand of trees and he wrestled with the steering wheel trying desperately to regain control. But it was no good and he could only slam on the brakes and shout, “Hannibal, stop, for fuck’s sake, stop.”

The car came to a halt with a jolting crash as it skidded driver’s side on into a large tree, crumpling the back passenger door and the trunk. The stillness that followed was broken by a wailing sound as Hannibal tried and failed to open his door. His body was turned in the seat, facing outside and he started rocking back and forth as he kept pulling clumsily at the handle.

Face turned towards him, the initial relief that the car had stopped and they were both in one piece was short lived. The sound Hannibal was making tore into his heart, it was one of fear and hopelessness. Face leaned over to him and reaching out a hand, placed it gently onto Hannibal’s arm, “Hannibal come on, it’s okay. You need to listen to me. You’ve…..”

He did not get a chance to finish as Hannibal slammed his elbow back delivering a powerful hit to Face’s stomach leaving him gasping for air. A right hook to his jaw followed as Hannibal swiftly turned around and in one fluid movement he scrambled over the seats into the back and was out the rear door while Face was still recovering.

Momentarily stunned, Face sat catching his breath but looking up and out of the windscreen he suddenly launched himself across the car and was out the door at a full run. The shape of the Westbrook Bridge loomed out of the darkness ahead and fear gripped Face’s heart as Hannibal was heading straight for it. 

Hannibal had a head start and seemed to have an energy that propelled him faster than Face had ever seen him run and he had to stop him. This whole thing was beyond anything he had seen before, he had no idea what was in Hannibal’s system, but whatever it was Face had to contain him before he hurt himself. That thought gave him the extra boost he needed to pick up his own speed but with a growing sense of dread he could see that it would not be enough. Hannibal was running as if the hounds of hell were on his heels and he was not far off from the bridge now. Then suddenly he started veering left and right in bizarre uncoordinated movements that slowed him down, but Face did not spend time thinking about it, it gave him the opportunity he needed and when he got close enough a flying tackle brought Hannibal down. They landed heavily in a tangle and Face manoeuvred quickly to pin Hannibal to the ground, lying across his chest and looking down into his eyes. Eyes with pupils so dilated that Face almost did not recognise them as his lovers, there was only a thin circle of blue showing.

His heart was pounding and not just from his run, the fear he felt for Hannibal constricted his chest as he tried to reach him.

“Hannibal, you’ve been drugged. Listen to me. It is drugs. Hannibal, whatever you are feeling now, it is not real. I am. I’m real and I’m right here and I will not let anything hurt you. I promise. John you have to trust me.” Looking up quickly, Face scanned the area, still fully aware that this could be part of a planned attack, but he could see nothing in the darkness, no movement to indicate there was anyone out there. His attention was brought quickly back as Hannibal suddenly started struggling underneath him and he shifted pushing more of his weight down and moved a hand up to sooth through the grey hair, “It’s okay, Boss, I’m still here.”

He had tried, he really had but they were too quick, too many and now he was pinned down, long fingers curled around him. The figure was staring right into him, it’s mouth still gaping, but the lips were completely melted away now, leaving bared rotten teeth. The jaw was moving up and down and a black leathery tongue moved as an insidious whispering emerged. There was no meaning, no words to grab hold of, but the sound seemed to travel between them and latch onto his skin, crawling over his body. He began to struggle, instinct taking over when his mind had almost given up and then the figure moved a hand up onto his head readying it’s claws to puncture through his skull. Then the panic took over and he frantically fought to get away.

After the car, Face had been ready for an attack and braced himself, however he was no match for Hannibal’s drug induced strength and he was hampered by his desire not to hurt this man. He was not going to be able to hold him much longer, but by the time he realised that, he could not do anything. Hannibal was too strong, too crazed and any tactic that he could use risked serious or even deadly harm. He wondered where the hell B.A. was when he needed him, just as one of Hannibal’s uncoordinated blows struck him on the side of the head. The colonel pushed up at the same time and was free, taking off again at a dead run towards the bridge.

Face staggered to his feet, stumbling on the uneven ground and having to put a hand down to steady himself before following. Thinking through his options as he ran, Face had to concede that at this point they appeared pretty limited. All of his training and experience dealt with chasing an enemy down, stopping or containing using any methods necessary. Trouble was those methods tended to have pretty adverse effects on the ones he was hunting and this was not an enemy, this was Hannibal.

Thinking that Hannibal would head straight onto the bridge he gave up tracking his erratic movements and sprinted towards the structure hoping to get slightly ahead and to come in at the Colonel fast, delivering a knock out blow before he knew he was there. With a sinking feeling he watched as instead of heading his way, Hannibal suddenly veered off and scrambled down the steep ground to the side of the bridge heading onto the metalwork underneath.

“Shit. Fucking bloody hell,” the swear words were mumbled and ragged as he took off after Hannibal frantic to reach him, as he saw his lover stumbling and grabbing onto the metal struts under the bridge before he lost sight of him as he moved further in.

As he reached the edge where the rocky ground met the metal he peered anxiously into the gloom, desperately trying to pick out any movement.

“Hannibal?” His soft voice carried easily in the still of the night, but went unanswered, “Boss, I know you can hear me and I need you to listen. I need you stay right where you are okay? Don’t move. I know you’re not thinking straight right now, but everything’s okay. You have to trust me Boss.” Face paused, waiting for any response, but there was nothing, “Hannibal, come on, it’s not safe for you up here right now. Let me know where you are and I can help you.”

The silence was overwhelming and fighting down his intense need to just rush in and get to his lover, Face took a deep breath forcing himself to remain still and listen.

Then he heard it, the sound of someone moving across the metal, slowly but then picking up speed and as soon as he had pinpointed the location he moved quickly onto the metal framework stepping onto a narrow barred walkway.

Hannibal stood with his back pressed up against the cold solid metal post, breathing heavily. He felt safer here where it was darker and more enclosed. Until he heard the whispering again, reaching out through the darkness to envelop him and he realised that they had found his hiding place. The panic returned, surging through him and he moved away from the comforting solidity at his back, his eyes darting around, trying to find out where they were. He could not see them and so he ran blindly forward hands outstretched grabbing onto the metal around him to steady himself until suddenly his reaching hand grasped nothing but air, no hard surface supported his foot and he felt himself falling forwards.

With a sickening twist in his stomach, Face watched as Hannibal teetered on the edge of the walkway before falling and he lunged forward, just managing to throw an arm around Hannibal’s chest and hooking the other around a post anchoring them and stopping the Colonel’s descent off the bridge. Pulling him back he pinned him against the metal, but there was no respite, no time to acknowledge the relief that flooded through him as Hannibal went straight on the attack. 

Trying to block the rein of strikes and punches, Face found himself dealing with the same ferocious drug induced strength as before and he was fighting a losing battle, hampered by his desire to keep Hannibal safe. A concern that Hannibal was not handicapped by and he showed no thought to their precarious position as he pushed Face backwards. There was no purchase on the metal, nothing to stop him sliding across and instinctively Face grabbed onto one of the struts with his left hand, but Hannibal brought his elbow down hard onto his fingers and then he was over the side.

Face was used to reacting to events that played out quickly, his job involved working in war zones for fuck’s sake, but still his mind was reeling to catch up here. One second he was frantically reaching for Hannibal to stop him falling, the next he was the one falling, only just managing to catch hold of the edge of the walkway griping tightly with his right hand as his legs swung wildly in the air. Face pulled himself up enough to be able to grasp the edge with his left hand as well, biting back the pain that shot through his fingers as he closed them forcefully round the metal. Condensation from the cool night air had coated the surface making his grip slip and he constantly tried to readjust his hold while he kicked out with his feet, searching for a foot hold that was not there. The only thing below him was empty space.

Face looked up and Hannibal was there, crouching down near the edge starting down at him.

“Hannibal, help me.”

There was no response and as his grip continued to slip he tore his eyes away from his Colonel, turning to look along the metal work, searching for any other hand holds, anything that he could transfer his grip to that would give him enough of a hold to pull himself up, but there was nothing.

Hannibal looked down at the figure hanging below him and knew that he had almost beaten it. Almost but not quite and this was the one that had caught him before, the one that was relentless in its’ pursuit. The one from the car, he glanced back over the way he had come and tried to remember if Face had been in the car with him or if this thing had always been there. He was startled to see another figure standing in the distance, illuminated by the still burning headlights. However this figure was familiar, it’s outline, it’s stance and the reflection from his hair. “Face.” As he whispered the word, the man turned and walked away back towards the car. Hannibal closed his eyes and did what he needed to so that he could follow him.

Hearing Hannibal softly say his name cut through Face’s rising panic and he looked back up, but the Colonel had his eyes tightly shut, “Help me Hannibal, please.”

Hannibal opened his eyes and leaning over he stretched out his arm holding his open hand down just within Face’s reach, but he did not speak, just stared at him, his expression impassive. He had little choice here, he could not get enough of a grip to pull himself up and his hold on the smooth moisture coated metal was slipping. He either trusted Hannibal or he fell, so he did what he had been doing for years and trusted the man above him. The man who loved him, who he loved in return. Using the last of his hold, he pulled upwards and reaching his arm up he locked his fingers around Hannibal’s wrist, but there was no reassuring answering pressure on his own wrist. No hand holding onto him. Hannibal kept his hand open and Face increased his grip trying to hang on, even felt his fingers digging into Hannibal’s flesh, but still he was slipping down and Hannibal did nothing to stop it.

As Face felt his fingers slide from Hannibal’s wrist, his lover leant slightly further forward and his neutral expression turned into one of hatred, “Die.” The word was softly said but contained all the force of the malice in his expression.

For a fraction of a second Face was suspended in mid air before he started falling, and manic thoughts of it being like one of Murdock’s cartoons flashed through his mind before the full horror hit him. He was falling and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He just had time to see Hannibal turning away and running along the walkway before gravity pulled his body down. Face hoped that he hit head first, it would be quick, painless, but even as the thought to turn that way occurred, training kicked in and his body automatically went into a standard jump landing position and pain exploded through him as he hit the ground.

Reaching the car only to find that Face was no longer there, Hannibal felt a crushing pain in his chest and he rested his hands on the hood, his head bowed as he started shaking. Just taking in oxygen seemed incredibly difficult, each breath he took was deep and laboured. Sweat formed on his brow and ran unnoticed down his face. He knew that they were still watching, could feel their eyes boring into him, He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Lifting his head quickly he was just in time to catch sight of a tall figure darting behind one of the trees and he moved round, scrambling into the vehicle and fumbling with the ignition. His hands were shaking badly now and he looked up, but could not see anything in the headlights. Everything beyond was totally black and that is where they would come from, but just as a figure emerged into the light the ignition caught. He threw the car into gear and pulled away, the vehicle shuddering with his uncoordinated efforts at driving and there was the sound of grating metal as the car scraped along the trees that it had slammed into. As he got to the bridge, a tall slim figure stood in the middle, blocking his way, but he just accelerated forward feeling the dull thud of the impact and watched with a cold fascination as the figure landed heavily on the hood before slipping down beneath the wheels.  
_________________________________

“Yeeesssss.” B.A. punched the air with his fist, twisting the table tennis bat in his other hand.

Bending down to pick up the ball, Murdock stood back up, turning with a sorrowful expression, “That was not your point.”

“Yes it was. Don’t start man, just because I’m winning.”

“Not in my head you’re not.”

“What!”

“I just won that point in my head. It was a beautiful corner shot.”

“What!” dumping his bat on the table B.A. took a step closer to Murdock, “What crazy ass talk is that? It’s 7-4 to me fool.”

With an annoying smile, Murdock nodded, “Okay Bosco, if you say so.” 

“Lets just play man.” picking up his bat B.A. returned to the table before the desire to place his hands around Murdock’s neck became too strong.

A few shots later and they were playing for the match and the tournament. B.A. aimed the ball perfectly, it bounced on the edge of the table before flying past Murdock and laughing B.A. did a little victory dance.

“That was an illegal shot.”

“No way Murdock.”

“Yes it was. You have to throw the ball at least six inches when you serve and that was only five and a half.”

“There is no such rule.” B.A. was not about to be suckered, he knew how Murdock could make even crazy talk sound reasonable and there was no way he was falling for it.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket and waving it in front of B.A.’s face before dialling, Murdock said, “Is too and I can prove it…..” listening to the ringing tone before hearing Face’s voicemail kick in, he absently bounced the retrieved ball on the table, “…..Just not right now…..Hey Facey you better get back soon, the big guy here is cheating.”

A big hand closed around his and pulled the phone away, “I ani’t the one cheating man and this teams gonna need a new pilot time I’m done with him.”

Pulling his hand back Murdock glared at B.A. “He doesn’t believe the six inch rule Face, call me back, we are on match point and I‘m winning.”

“You are not winning Murdock.”

“Ah ha, okay. You live in your world, I‘ll live in mine.”  
____________________________

The unexpected sound of his phone ringing pierced through the darkness and lifting his head, Face saw Murdock smiling at him as his picture flashed on the screen. Caught on some rocks above him and over to the right, the phone seemed miles away, but he gritted his teeth and tried to haul himself across the ground, not even getting a few inches closer before the ringing cut off. Letting his head drop back to the ground, he fought the wave of nausea that his efforts had cost him. Confusion and pain clouded his mind and he could feel blood trickling across his face. A small part of his mind recognised that he had a concussion and that meant that he should stay awake, but he desperately wanted to escape. Wanted a respite from the excruciating pain and from the vision of Hannibal’s face as he had let him fall. Wanted to silence the word die which was echoing around his head in his lover‘s voice, forget the sound of the car as it drove away leaving him here, but the unconsciousness he wished for would not come, so he steeled himself to try and reach the phone.  
___________________________________

Murdock wandered into the kitchen, clutching his phone. He was worried. A niggling, twitching, back of the mind kind of worry that he could not shake, “He hasn’t called back and he’s still not answering. They should be back by now.”

B.A. turned from the cupboard holding a big bag of chips and searched for a bowl, “They’re okay man, stop worrying.”

“I’m not.” As B.A. glanced back at him, he amended, “It’s just that Face said he’d be back for the second round, to take on the winner.”

“They’re grown men, you crazy fool. Rangers.” Finding a mixing bowl and dumping the chips in it, he held it out for Murdock to take some, sighing when the pilot just turned away and looked out of the window. “Besides, they’re…..you know.”

“What?” He turned back to B.A. raising an eyebrow at the big guys hesitant tone.

“Together. They could have…..you know?”

B.A. blushing was a rare and treasured sight, so Murdock adopted his best innocent expression and played dumb. “What?”

“They could have parked up somewhere.”

“Why would they do that?” 

B.A. was starting to get flustered, “You know why man.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You know, they could have parked up somewhere to….” at last B.A. caught onto Murdock’s game and shoved passed him into the living room clutching his bowl of chips, “Shut up and just finish this dam match.

Murdock followed him slowly, not really feeling any better. They were just off a large army base even if they were staying in a house on the more isolated side, he doubted that the Colonel and the Lieutenant would risk ‘parking up’ anywhere around here. But B.A, was right when he said they were grown men, more than capable of looking after themselves and it wasn’t like they were in a war zone, so he picked up his bat, but could not find the motivation to bait B.A. anymore and with the Corporal picking up and tuning into his mood, play was mostly silent.  
___________________________________________

The first thing Hannibal was aware of was a cramp in his right leg and he automatically shifted trying to stretch out, only to find that his leg could not move. In fact his whole body felt enclosed and awkward and he tensed trying to figure out where he was. He moved his arm which was covering his face and opened his eyes to see that he was in a car. Only he was squashed into the back, on the floor sandwiched between the seats, his position cramped and uncomfortable. He felt totally disorientated and tried to remember how he had gotten there, but nothing was clear. Everything was confused, seeming almost unreal as if he was in a trance but there was a memory lurking in the corners of his mind, one that filled him with a sense of dread, but that he could not grasp hold of as it stayed just out of his reach. He gingerly pulled himself up and clambered over the seats, trying to get a fix on where he was. The sky had the eerie look of pre-dawn and he recognised the road he was on as leading to the house and starting the engine he instinctively drove towards it.  
____________________________________________

Murdock looked out of the window for what felt like the hundredth time in the last half hour and turned back to find B.A. leaning in behind him also trying to peer through the glass.

“That is it B.A. I’m gonna go look for them.” He would not take no for an answer now, Hannibal and Face should have been back hours ago and neither were answering their phones.

“We are gonna go look for them Murdock.” Standing back B.A. gestured him toward the door but just as they were heading out, the sound of a car drew them back to the window.

“’Bout time man.” Despite the gruff tone, B.A. could not disguise his relief.

“I told you not to worry, but you never listen to me.” jumping easily out of the way of a half hearted punch, Murdock dodged around him and headed out of the door.

B.A. was speaking even before Hannibal got out of the car, “Hannibal, tell this crazy fool…….” his voice trailed off as he saw the state the Colonel was in and then his eyes travelled over the vehicle taking in the damage on the side.

Hannibal climbed out of the car and looked around in a daze before doubling over and vomiting. Stepping forward B.A. held onto his arm, “You okay Boss?”

Straightening up Hannibal again looked around in confusion before focusing in on the two men standing anxiously in front of him and demanding, “Where’s Face? I need him.” His voice was shaky and held an edge of hysteria that neither of the other men had ever heard from the Colonel.

Sharing a worried look with B.A., Murdock peered into the car, noting Face’s uniform jacket scrunched up on the back seat. “He was with you Colonel. What‘s going on?”

Hannibal turned away and threw up again, putting his hands out to steady himself on the nearby fence and B.A. noticed flakes of dried blood on his hand. He reached out and took a hold, examining it for injuries and pushing up his shirt sleeve his eyes fell on deep scratches and what looked like finger marks.

“Hannibal, how did this happen?”

The Colonel pushed him away, “I don’t know,” why the hell weren’t they just telling him what he needed to know? Turning angrily he shouted, “Just tell me where Face is.”

“We don’t know Hannibal. Like Murdock said, he was with you at the party. When did you last see him?”

“I don’t remember….. Smoking, we were smoking by the trees outside the hall.”

Murdock dialled Face’s number again with little hope of an answer but still his heart sank when it went to voicemail. “Hey buddy, give me a ring as soon as you get this. It’s urgent.”

B.A. ran his hand over the dented side of the car, “They must have had some kind of an accident, but where the hell is Face at?”

Following his movements Hannibal was drawn to look at the roof of the car, there should be a dent there too right? Walking unsteadily round to the front, he ran his hand over the smooth surface, and here on the hood, shouldn’t there be a dent here? An image of the bridge flashed into his mind, of accelerating over it feeling an impact, but then it was gone. “The bridge, I think we were on the bridge.” He moved around and was just getting into the driver’s seat when he felt B.A.’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hannibal man, I’ll drive.”

Murdock was already getting into the back and he absently picked up Face’s jacket smoothing it out. It was creased, Face would not like that, so Murdock continued to run his hands over it as they moved out to look for their missing friend.

__________________________________

Hannibal scanned the road ahead with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was like a fist clenching inside and it was getting tighter with each passing second, but still he could not grasp why. There was an overwhelming feeling that it concerned Face and he swallowed down another wave of nausea. The harder he tried to remember the last few hours, the more the memories seemed to elude him and the fog that encompassed his mind would not clear, still leaving him feeling dazed and confused. As he peered out of the window his vision dimmed and the next thing he was aware of was the feel of fingers running over his head. An irrational sense of panic gripped him but taking a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes to see B.A. crouched beside the car leaning in through the opened passenger door. One hand was still resting in his hair, the other had moved down to catch the arm which he had raised as the panic hit.

Murdock had been leaning through the middle of the front seats dividing his attention between the passing scene through the window and keeping an eye on the Colonel. His earlier nagging worry had turned into a full blown anxiety and his fingers continually twisted the hem of Face’s jacket. He had seen the exact moment when Hannibal had blacked out, his head slumping forward onto his chest and B.A. had brought the car to an abrupt halt going round to check on him.

“Anything?” looking over the seat and making his own inspection of the back of Hannibal’s head, Murdock could not see any head injury.

“No. There’s no bumps, no cuts, nothing.” B.A. looked up worriedly at Murdock before turning his gaze back to Hannibal.

“Then what’s wrong with him? Maybe we should get him to the hospital.”

“No.” Hannibal’s voice sounded weak, but then he rallied, pushing himself up in the seat and repeated in a firmer voice, “No. I’m fine, we need to find Face.”

B.A. let out a frustrated sigh, “Hannibal man, what happened?”

As Hannibal looked up at him, B.A. could clearly see the confusion and fear in his face as he said softly, “I don’t know Bosco. I…..I remember the bridge…..hitting something…..” he moved his arm in B.A.’s grip turning it so that his hand grabbed tightly onto the Corporal’s sweatshirt, “You don’t think I hit him do you? B.A. tell me I didn’t run him down.”

“Don’t talk crazy Hannibal. You wouldn’t do that,” as he spoke he moved a hand to Hannibal’s shoulder to reassure and he could feel the tremors that ran through his body.

“Lets just get to the bridge now.” The deadly serious tone in Murdock’s voice had B.A. quickly glancing up to see him staring at Hannibal with a strangely blank expression.

Nodding in agreement, B.A. pushed himself up and got back in the car.

The rest of the short journey was in silence each man dreading what they would find on the bridge. None of them really expecting what they did see as B.A. brought the car to a halt in the middle of the towering structure….. Nothing, absolutely nothing. No skid marks, no damage on the metal barriers to match that on the car, no blood, no Face.

They all climbed out of the car, Murdock and B.A. were out first, looking around for anything, however small that might help them, the early rays of the sunrise casting a beautiful soft glow over the area. They both turned as getting out of the car, Hannibal stumbled and fell landing heavily on the ground but immediately getting unsteadily back on his feet, having to use the side of the car to haul himself up.

B.A. walked back to him, supporting him when he sagged and looked both ways along the road, “There’s nothing here Boss. Can you remember anything else?“

Closing his eyes and desperately trying to remember, Hannibal shook his head, “Dam it B.A. don’t you think I would tell you if I did.”

“Okay, well where do we go from here?” B.A. ran his hand over his mohawk thinking out loud, “We need to find where the damage to the car came from. It has to be on this road somewhere, so we go on till we find it.”

Murdock pulled his phone out, trying Face’s number again only because it was better than doing nothing. He had no real hope that it would be answered. As he dialled an unwanted thought popped into his head and he looked at Hannibal thoughtfully not liking where his mind was going. The colonel’s behaviour, memory loss with no head injury…..

His train of thought was abruptly cut off at the faint by unmistakable sound of Face’s ring tone and he spun around trying to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. “Face,” he shouted as loud as he could, his voice soon joined by two others.

But there was no answer and the phone cut off to voicemail. Swearing under his breath, Murdock dialled again, this time signalling the other two to keep quiet and when the phone rang all three listened intently. It seemed to dawn on them all simultaneously and they turned as one to the side of the bridge, but paused before Murdock was the first one to rush over to the railings closely followed by Hannibal who was being supported by B.A.

Looking over the side Murdock felt as if he had been punched in the gut and he tried to get air back into his lungs. Face was lying below him in the dry gully, unmoving and he tore his eyes away quickly scanning the area for a way down and then he was off, running along the bridge towards the steep sides.

Hannibal stood looking down, totally stunned, the cold twisting in his stomach had moved up to his heart and he actually thought that it might burst. He moved to follow Murdock only to find B.A.’s strong hands gripping his arms, his solid body blocking his way. “Get out of my way.” It came out as a growl through gritted teeth.

B.A. tightened his grip looking at Hannibal right in the eye, trying to get through to him, “You are not in any fit state to get down there Boss.”

“I said get out of my way.” he started to struggle, but his weak attempts only helped to prove B.A.’s point.

“Hannibal, look at the terrain. You’re shaking, unsteady, hell man you fell just getting out of the car.” Glancing back at Murdock, B.A. was torn, he needed to follow him, needed to get down there with him, to face what they would find together, but he knew that he had to stop Hannibal from trying to get down there. He used the truth, hating to say the words, but needing to, “Boss the state you’re in, you try and get down there, you gonna fall. What the hell are we gonna then? We need to concentrate on Face. On getting to him, on helping him, not be worrying about you.”

B.A. held his breath.

Hannibal rocked backwards slightly as if he had been hit and turned his gaze to where Murdock was starting to make his way down the treacherous rocky side of the gully, he watched as Murdock slid down a few feet almost falling and only just managing to grab hold of some vegetation to stop himself. Then he looked back down at Face and he knew that however much it hurt, B.A. was right.

Hannibal nodded, “Go.”

Still hesitant B.A. asked, “You’ll stay here?”

“Yes,” Hannibal snapped, “Just go.” 

Hannibal placed both of his hands on the cool metal barrier and gripped so tightly that his knuckles turned white and the surface was imprinted onto his hands. He kept his eyes on Face willing his lover to move to show him that he was still alive.  
__________________________

Murdock checked the rate of his descent, almost falling had bought common sense into play where before there had only been instinctive action. No matter how desperately he wanted to get to his friend, it would not help him if he got himself killed in the process. So he made his way as fast as he could, but it was slow going, looking for hand and foot holds that would take his weight and wishing for ropes and equipment that they did not have. He could hear B.A. above him and slightly to his left following him down, but did not spare the time to look.

Murdock reached the bottom and turned anguished eyes towards Face lying about fifty feet away from him and at this distance he could not tell if he was breathing. He was lying on his front, head to the side with his arms up by his head, he had not changed position since Murdock had first spotted him and suddenly he did not want to close the distance between them. If he stayed away then nothing was final, nothing could end and the closest friendship of his life could not be torn away from him.

Then he felt B.A. land beside him and a heavy touch on his shoulder, pushing him forward and for a split second resentment flared at being made to face this, but then gratitude that he was not facing it alone kicked in.

“Come on Murdock.” B.A.’s voice was soft and strong and what he needed to get him moving.

As they approached the still figure it was B.A. who saw it first, Face moving his fingers, scratching shallowly into the dirt. A small movement which meant so much, because it meant that there was hope.

“He’s alive.” B.A. increased his speed and was kneeling beside Face within seconds, taking hold of his hand, gently lifting the fingers away from the dirt. He turned the hand in his so that he gripped it firmly in a palm to palm clasp, shifting over slightly to make room for Murdock who knelt beside him.

B.A.’s eyes travelled up to Hannibal standing motionless on the bride above, “He’s alive Hannibal,” he shouted and could see the Colonel sag in relief as the words reached him.

As Murdock took in Face‘s condition, the tremendous relief that his friend was still alive was replaced again by fear. He was pale and as Murdock ran a gentle hand over his cheek he could feel the cold clamminess and his breathing was slow and shallow. His thin uniform shirt was damp with sweat despite the early morning chill. Looking along his body, Murdock’s gut twisted as he saw the bone in Face’s right leg protruding through a jagged tear in his trousers and as he bought his gaze back up, he took in the still bleeding head wound.

B.A. released Face’s hand to take off his own sweatshirt and the lieutenant’s hand reached weakly out searching until it was taken by Murdock. “It’s okay Buddy, we are here now. Me and B.A. we’re right here, you are going be fine Face, just fine, okay?” Murdock watched as B.A. covered Face with his sweatshirt wishing he was wearing more than a t shirt so that he could add some warmth to his friend.

Face had heard Murdock shouting his name, but it was far away and muffled, then the whole team had been calling him, but he had convinced himself that it was another waking dream. Other voices to taunt him as he lay unable to find the welcome blackness of unconsciousness. He had always fought to stay awake whenever he was injured despite any pain and often he had lost that fight. This time all he wanted to do was to escape the pain and to stop thinking, but he couldn’t. How fucked up was that? Then when he had felt a strong hand take hold of his own and held in a familiar clasp, he knew that they had found him. There was no mistaking B.A.’s solid grip, it had hauled him out of trouble more times than he could count. Then it was gone and maybe he had imagined it and he reached out and another hand held onto him, Murdock’s voice telling him everything was going to be okay. He tried to open his eyes and tell them he was okay, if they would just help him up they could get out of here. But it was all he could do to open his eyes.

Getting out his phone B.A. moved away slightly, allowing Murdock to move in and lean down, one hand still tightly gripped around Face’s the other moved back up and rubbed over his cheek. Even though Face’s fingers were maintaining a steady, but weak pressure on his hand, Murdock was still startled when blue eyes, clouded with pain opened and Face looked up at him. Murdock had assumed that Face was unconscious and the joy at seeing him awake was tempered by the hurt at seeing the pain he was in.

Face started to move, to try and get up, but Murdock’s hand on his back held him still, “Don’t move Face. Just keep still buddy and we’ll have you out of here in no time, okay?” He tried to smile reassuringly, but knew that he was nowhere near pulling it off and as tears threatened, he looked away taking a deep breath. The last thing Face needed right now was to see him falling apart, so he turned his head towards B.A. who was just finishing on the phone.

B.A. moved back placing a hand on Murdock’s shoulder and squeezing gently, “Come on man, I’ve called it in, they’ll be here in no time,” his voice was a whisper, but as he moved around him and knelt back beside Face, he spoke louder, “Hey brother how’s it going?”

Face’s lips barely moved and no sound escaped him, but he was trying and he was still with them. “Medics are on their way. I just gotta take a quick look, give them a heads up okay?“”not expecting an answer, B.A. ran his gaze and his hands over Face’s body, looking for injuries, for anything that they could help with. The only things obvious were the leg, the head wound and that Face was rapidly going into shock. There was no way to tell if he had internal injuries, but looking back up the distant he had fallen it was entirely possible. All they could do was keep him, still and quiet until help arrived. He glanced back up to Hannibal still standing where he had left him and somehow that worried him more than if the Colonel had tried to follow them down. He shared a confused look with Murdock, “What the hell happened?”

Murdock shook his head, his hand threading through Face’s hair, “I don’t know,” he whispered and his attention was caught by marks on the ground behind where Face was lying.

B.A. followed his gaze and saw the scuff marks in the dirt and his heart clenched. Face had managed to drag himself about fifteen feet from where he had landed and B.A. looked over to the steep sides of the gully. “What was he trying to do? Climb out?” he shook his head, Face must have known that would have been impossible with a broken leg.

Following the way Face was headed, Murdock saw his phone jammed between some rocks and realised what the plan was, “No, he was trying to reach his phone,” His voice cracked as he imagined how bad the pain would have been and how he would have felt trying and still being unable to reach his only lifeline.  
__________________________________

The relief when B.A. had shouted up that Face was alive almost brought Hannibal to his knees, but his iron grip on the railings kept him upright. Despite B.A.’s words and the weakness he felt he nearly followed the other two down. But he could not stop the nagging thought in the back of his mind that he did not deserve to be down there with them. So he did what was best for Face and stayed where he was trying to make sense of the jumbled thoughts in his head, trying to remember what had happened, how he could have left Face like this. His gaze travelled down to his wrist and the small bruises beginning to appear, just visible below the cuff of his shirt and an image of Face flashed through his mind but disappeared as the sound of a low flying helicopter forced him to look up and then back down to Face, “Hold on Babe….. Just stay with me,” even if the whispered words had been shouted, they would not have reached his lover over the noise of the helicopter. Hannibal just hoped that Face would hear them in his heart, would know that he was there with him. “I….. I’m sorry Kid.” the need to say the words defied reason and logic, he did not know why he was sorry, only that he was.  
_______________________

Another long and boring day loomed ahead and Sergeant Brown stared at the files on his desk seeking the motivation to start reading through the details of five drunk and disorderly reports and two domestic assaults. He ran a hand over his close cropped hair feeling the receding hairline that was noticeable even with the short length. He was only thirty five, but then his father was nearly bald by the time he was forty and he still resented that. Like it rankled that he was a sergeant, still working in this little office, well maybe he could not do anything about genetics, but he was still working on ways to rectify the other issue. He sighed and reached forward to pick up the top file when Corporal Steadman came bursting into the room excitedly waving car keys in his face. “We have a call and it sounds like a good one Sarge.”

Sergeant Michael Brown had been in the Military Police for three years and that happened to be one year and seven months longer than Corporal Lewis Steadman, who at twenty two years of age still acted like a teenager at times. Although he secretly relished any excuse to get out of the paperwork in front of him, Sergeant Brown kept his composure as he stood and got himself ready to move out. “What is it?”

“One of Colonel Smith’s men took a nose dive of the Westbrook Bridge last night, the chopper’s been scrambled and is on the way out there now.”

“Which one?” the corporal was right, this sounded like a good call, at least more interesting than the usual Sunday morning aftermath of the Saturday night mix of soldiers and alcohol.

“His lieutenant. Corporal Baracus called it in. Sounds like he could be in a bad way but there is no information on how he ended up down in the gully.”

Private Lucy Rawlings looked up from where she was pouring herself a much needed cup of coffee. “Really? That’s just awful. Lieutenant Peck and Colonel Smith were at the passing out party last night, Smith stepped in for General Marshal.”

That got Sergeant Brown’s attention and he stopped on his way out of the door, “Both of them were there?”

“Yes.”

“Did they leave together?”

“Yes, I think so. I was not really paying that much attention, I was there with my boyfriend, not as an MP.”

Sergeant Brown leant over and took the cup of coffee out of Rawlings hand, pouring it down the small sink in the corner of the self-contained office, “Well, you are on duty now Rawlings, so make yourself useful and find out everything you can about their time at the party. I want to know if they were drinking, if they left together, what time they left, everything. You understand?”

“Yes Sergeant,” being used to his sanctimonious attitude did not make him any easier to work with and the only thing that kept her from a charge of insubordination was the knowledge that as soon as he was gone, she would have another cup of coffee in her hand. The early shifts really sucked.  
_______________________

Face kept as tight a grip as he could on Murdock’s hand, he had an irrational need not to let go, as if he would go into another free fall if he did. As he felt Murdock shift he forced his fingers to close tighter and tried to pull himself up, instantly regretting it as he moved his leg and he could not stop a moan of pain from escaping. Murdock’s return grip on his hand tightened and the fingers running through his hair were removed and placed onto his back again holding him still.

“Geez, for the love of flying Face, will you just keep still?”

Thinking was getting harder now, his brain taking longer to process everything as the concussion and shock took more of a hold, but as his mind slowly registered what Murdock had said, he managed to nod slightly, biting his lip.

Murdock rubbed slow even circles over his back, “What ya do buddy, go parachuting without the chute?” his voice sounded rough, not his normal smooth drawl.

Confusion clouded Face’s mind and he started shivering as the physical effects of the shock intensified, but one word kept echoing around his head…..die….. “Hannibal,” he whispered not even aware he had spoken until Murdock answered.

Misunderstanding the word for a plea for information, Murdock tried to reassure, “He’s fine Face, just up there on the bridge, a little shook up, but he’s okay.”

Face closed his eyes as a strange mix of feelings rushed through him at Murdock’s words, fear and relief fighting for dominance. His throat constricted and shame assailed him as he realised it was fear not only for his lover but of him and he was grateful that he was away from him up on the bridge. But the relief that Hannibal was alright won out as he ruthlessly pushed the other feelings aside. Conflicting emotions had been his companions over the seemingly endless hours he had being lying there, worry and panic over Hannibal’s safety warring with desolation, despair and betrayal. Through his confusion there was one thing that he had to make sure that Murdock knew. One thing that he had to find the strength to tell him and he tried to pull Murdock closer with his hand, “It’s not his fault Murdock…..not his fault,” his quite words were drowned out by the sound of a helicopter.

Murdock looked up at the chopper flying in low, puzzlement clearly written on his face as his gaze shifted over to Hannibal, what was not his fault? But the questions would have to wait as the chopper banked slightly and flew on passing them.

“What the hell…..?” B.A. stood up following the helicopter with his eyes, “We’re down here fools,” spinning around he gave Murdock a questioning look.

“A lot of trees here big guy, probably going to land in the field beyond.”

“What about the winch?”

Murdock squinted his eyes up as he watched the helicopter disappear into the rising sun, “That’s an XJ150, they don’t have them.”

About fifteen minutes later, two men came running out of the trees on the far side of the gully moving over the dry river bed as quickly as the uneven ground allowed carrying medical bags and a backboard between them.

A black man about forty years old with an air of authority and captain’s bars on his jumpsuit knelt down opposite Murdock, “I’m Doctor Curtis, what happened?” He was all business, already checking Face over as he spoke and setting up an iv line into his arm smoothly despite the awkward angle.

Murdock responded in kind with a clear summary of the little that they knew, “We think he fell from up there Doc. He’s got a broken leg, a head injury and he’s going into shock which has been getting worse, been conscious since we got here but he is starting to drift in and out.” Taking a deep breath, Murdock added, “He’s in a lot of pain Doc.”

Curits nodded but after looking around he said disapprovingly, “You’ve moved him.”

Angrily B.A. moved over helping the doctor cut away the leg of Face’s pants exposing the injury, “Course we didn’t fool, we know better than that. He dragged himself over here.”

Curtis examined the break and reached back getting a small canister from his bag, “That’s Captain Fool to you solider,” his voice was distracted as he placed a hand on Face’s back and leant forward, “Okay Lieutenant, we are going to move over onto the backboard and splint your leg. This is pain relief in here. I need you to just breath this in.” He placed the tube end on the canister to Face’s mouth. “That’s it just breath in deeply.”

Murdock held it steady while his friend breathed in, looking at the wording on the canister, “You’ve got the good stuff here Buddy.”

Curtis looked over at the stocky dark haired Lieutenant who was with him, “Let’s get his neck stable and turn him onto the board.” He directed both Lieutenant Shaw and B.A. to get into place and leant over Face again, “This is going to hurt even with the pain relief, but try and keep still.”

Murdock watched as Face was turned over and saw the pain etched on his friend’s face but what hurt even more than that, was removing his hand from Face’s. The Lieutenant’s fingers were curled around his hand and he tightened his hold as Murdock tried to let go so that he could be moved. But as Murdock had moved his other hand to pry the fingers loose, Face had squeezed his fingers once and then let go himself, but Murdock had a feeling that was harder for his friend than facing the pain when he was repositioned onto the backboard. 

Murdock and B.A hovered anxiously kneeling beside Face opposite Curtis as the doctor cut away his shirt and continued to check him over, wincing in sympathy when he pressed down on his abdomen and Face groaned. Curtis shook his head, moving his fingers as he pressed down again with the same response, “How badly does that hurt?”

“Had worse gut ache after eating Murdock’s steaks,” his voice was barely above a whisper and his eyes drifted closed. Neither of his team mates missed the concerned look that passed between the two medical personnel.

Curtis eyes remained on Lieutenant Shaw, as his fingers continued running over Face’s stomach, “Okay, we’ve got internal bleeding, most likely a ruptured spleen. We need to get him to the chopper as fast as we can.” He looked down at the bone protruding form Face’s leg, “We will have to splint this leg quickly and then get moving he needs surgery stat.”

Nodding Shaw glanced behind them back the way they had come through the trees, “It’s going to be rough going, should we try for another bird and winch him out?”

“No time, nearest one is over at Canning Point, would take too long to get here. No we need to……”

“We could bring the chopper in here” Murdock interrupted.

Curtis gave him a dismissive look, “The trees are too close and the bridge, our pilot can’t get down here.”

“I can,” the total conviction in his voice stopped the doctor from discounting the idea immediately and sensing his advantage Murdock continued, “I’m a hundred times the pilot your guy is. I could get that bird down here with my eyes shut. I won’t…..” he added quickly, “but I could.”

Looking thoughtful, Curtis considered his options. His patient needed to get to the hospital fast and being stretchered out over rough ground decreased his chances of survival not only through the time taken, but also by aggravating his injuries. But he had everyone’s safety to consider, he did not know this man or his capabilities.

Seeing the Doctor’s reluctance B.A. pushed, “Murdock’s the best dam pilot in the army. Fool says he can get that chopper in here, then he can.”

“I’ve heard about these guys, Captain,” Shaw looked between B.A. and Murdock, “Hannibal Smith and his team, heard some of the things they’ve done.” He caught Murdock’s eye, “I’ll fly with you Sir.”

Nodding Murdock shifted getting ready to move out.

“Now wait a minute, it’s not just us that I have to consider here. This is my patient, he is my responsibility.” Cuties held up a hand to halt Murdock’s move and gave him a stern look.

The pilot did not flinch from his stare, “No he isn’t Doc.”

“He is our lieutenant. Our responsibility.” B.A.s forcefully spoken words hung in the air as all eyes fixed on the doctor.

The monitor measuring Face’s pulse and blood pressure beeped out a warning into the silence and Curtis sighed, his decision made, “Go,” and he went back to tend to his patient. “Shaw go with him, Martin won’t take his word for it that I’ve given permission for this.”

Faced with actually leaving, Murdock suddenly felt a rush of trepidation, not wanting to desert his best friend, frightened by the still beeping monitor and the way Curtis was now quickly fixing up another bag of fluids to the drip already in Face’s arm. But then B.A. was there again patting him on the shoulder, “Go, I’ll be with him.”

Murdock reached out and placed his hand gently over Face’s cheek smiling down into the dulled blue eyes that opened at the touch. Holding onto his gaze he moved his hand taking one of B.A.s, placing it into Faces hand and pressing them together, “Facey, you keep holding onto the big guy here and I’ll be back before you know it with your ride out of here. Okay?”

He patted Face’s shoulder satisfied with the slight nod he received. Then without looking back he stood up abruptly, gathered Lieutenant Shaw up with a glance and was off and running across the river bed towards the trees, calling over to the man struggling to keep up with him, “Come on Buzz, let’s fly like the wind.”

“My name’s Steven, Sir.”

“You look like a young Buzz Lightyear Steven Sir. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Ah, no Sir,”

The confused response faded away as B.A. watched them go until he felt the grip in his hand loosen and he looked back down to Face to see he had again closed his eyes. He tightened his fingers, “You heard the man Face, keep holding onto me,” and he relief he felt when the grip became stronger was short lived at the Doctors next words.

“I’m going to need your help to splint this leg Corporal.”  
______________________

Through the haze lingering in his mind and the still morning air, Face’s muted scream cut into Hannibal like a knife as he watched B.A. and the medic reposition his leg. Even from the bridge he had seen the unnatural angle that the leg had been in and there was no doubt that it was broken. He had stood in silence as Murdock had sprinted off, disappearing into the trees followed by the lieutenant that had arrived before, still being supported by the rail in front of him, his body still feeling weak and shaky. But the sound of that scream was like a jolt of electricity shaking him from his inertia and he leaned further forward, “B.A. what’s going on?”

Responding to his shout, B.A. called back, “Murdock’s gone for the chopper Hannibal, it’s okay,” his voice sounded strained and he did not spare a glance up to him still focused on helping the medic.

Hannibal was desperate to know how badly Face was hurt, what they were dealing with here, at least Face was conscious, but the spectre of a serious head injury still loomed large in his mind. He felt useless up there, unable to help and out of touch and he almost demanded a report but shouting down at B.A. would not help anyone right now, so biting his lip he trusted his team, his friends to help his lover. He could not even call down to Face, tell him he loved him, not with other people around. He had lost that opportunity when the medics had arrived. Why had he not thought of it when it had been just the four of them? He could have called down then, known that Face would have heard the words, that he would have spoken them, something for them both the hold onto.

The sound of the helicopter returning should have been a relief but it stoked a growing anger and frustration in Hannibal, it had all taken too long. If Murdock had been flying to start with, Face would be at the base hospital by now. Time was always a factor in survival rates, he had sat through the field medic training enough times to be fully aware of that and he had no idea how long Face had been down there, shock would certainly have set in by now. The wind from the chopper’s rotors and the noise of the engine almost forced him back away from the side of the bridge. But he just tighten his hold on the metal and stayed firmly where he was, only closing his eyes briefly, when the debris flying around him gave him no choice, before opening them again and fixing his gaze on Face.

The military police car that was speeding up towards Hannibal went unnoticed and even if its sirens were not drowned out by the noise of the helicopter, Hannibal would not have been aware of it.  
__________________________

Murdock expertly guided the helicopter down through the gap in the tree canopy and the bridge, the aircraft lowering as smoothly and straight as an elevator and then kept it hovering steadily a bare six inches from the ground. 

The original pilot sat next to him looking terrified and an, awed open mouthed, Lieutenant Shaw hung out the back of the chopper, “Wow,” then he jumped out and helped Captain Curtis and B.A. slide the backboard with Face lying on it to it into the rear of the chopper.

As Curtis jumped in next to his patient, B.A. hesitated, hanging back and he looked scared. Moving as close to Murdock as he dared he shouted above the noise, “You need me to come to the hospital with you.”

Murdock shook his head, “No, you need to go see to the Colonel.”

B.A. looked up to the bridge and then over to the steep rocky sides of the gully knowing how long it would take him to climb out he returned his gaze to the helicopter.

“I haven’t got any needles on me B.A.”

A feeling of panic bubbled up inside his chest, but he swallowed, took a deep breath and nodded once at Murdock before climbing into the back of the chopper sitting near the head end of the stretcher. As the helicopter started its ascent, B.A. wound his hand around the strap over the door and held on, closing his eyes. He felt a pressure on his other hand and looked down to see Face’s hand resting on his. Moving his gaze up, Face stared back at him and winked, patting his hand weakly. He nodded once and smiled his thanks, the gesture of comfort made his throat tighten and as the helicopter now hovered over the bridge, he held Face’s eyes, “I’ll see you at the hospital.” He made it sound like an absolute, no doubt in his voice, almost an order and then he swung his legs out of the door and jumped onto the bridge below, landing with a perfect drop and roll and patting the ground fondly as he pushed himself up.

____________________________

Steadman flipped his phone closed and increased his pace to catch up with Sergeant Brown who was striding over to the side of the bridge. They both stopped and peered over the railings and Steadman let out a low whistle, “That’s quite a drop.”

“Umm, who was that on the phone?”

“Lucy, she’s been speaking to some people who were at the function last night. The Colonel and Peck definitely left together at about midnight, but we don’t know who was driving yet or how much they’d had to drink.”

Brown nodded thoughtfully, that left six hours to account for, “So how the hell did Peck end up down there?”

Steadman turned around surveying the whole area, “It would have been pitch black out here. Maybe he lost his footing.”

Brown turned steely green eyes on the Corporal, “He is a Ranger Steadman.”

“Well, they are not supermen, he could just have fallen, maybe he had been drinking.”

“That does not explain what he was doing out here in the first place.” The sergeant shook his head. Everything about this felt wrong to him. He had been to many accident scenes and usually it was pretty easy to join the dots and work out what had happened. He noticed the car parked on the other side of the bridge taking in the damage, “That damage is fresh, check around and see if you can find out what they hit.” As the Corporal did as he ordered, Brown watched Colonel Smith step away from the rail and watch the helicopter lift into the air and he took the opportunity to study him. Smiling slightly as he saw the state he looked to be in. Still in the dress uniform he would have had to wear to the function, his appearance was dirty and dishevelled, he was unsteady on his feet having to step forward just to keep his balance and the hands now hanging limply by his side were trembling. He fought to keep his smile from getting wider, this could be just what he needed to boost his career, to get that promotion. A high profile case was always good, and taking down the infamous Colonel Smith would certainly be that.

Steadman jogged up beside him, “Skid marks on the road just up there, looks like they veered off and hit the trees. Oh and Lucy mentioned something else about last night. Rumour has it that the Colonel there was in a hell of a temper when he left, but it’s all just gossip, she hasn’t spoken to anyone with any facts yet.”

“Interesting. Well let’s go and find out what the man himself has to say.”

“You really think Smith was involved in Peck ending up down there?”

“Well if he wasn’t, he certainly did nothing to help him. Look around Corporal, there’s nowhere around here they could have detoured off to, the car has been moved since it crashed and there’s six hours unaccounted for. My guess is Peck has been down there for those six hours. The question is why didn’t the Colonel get help earlier?” He put his hand up to protect his face as the helicopter hovered and a figure jumped down, then he strode purposefully towards the Colonel.

As B.A. walked over towards Hannibal he saw the Corporal’s eyes focus behind him and turned to see two military police officers heading his way. He dismissed them immediately from his mind, turning anxious eyes to B.A. staggering as he moved to meet him and clasping his shoulder the question was clearly written on his face and B.A. answered.

“His got a bad break to his leg, concussion, he’s in shock…..” B.A.s’ voice trailed off and the Colonel’s grip on his shoulder tightened.

“B.A.”

“And there’s internal bleeding Boss, the Doc thinks his spleen could be ruptured,” seeing what little colour there was left in Hannibal’s face drain away, he moved his own hand up to Hannibal’s shoulder. “Could be a lot worse Boss and he’s on his way to the hospital now, they’re going to operate, fix him up.” He tried to put as much conviction in his voice as possible, but knowing as well as the Colonel what internal bleeding could mean.

“Was he talking?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much Hannibal. He was conscious but hardly said anything.”

Hannibal felt a stab of disappointment, unaware until that moment that he had been holding out for some kind of message from his lover, any kind of contact even words passed on through B.A.

“Come on Hannibal, sooner we get to the hospital, sooner you can talk to him yourself.” B.A. started to push him towards the car until a voice stopped them.

“Hold on a minute solider.” The man who stood and blocked their path could not look more typically like an MP if he tried and B.A. felt his hackles rise taking an instant dislike to the Sergeant.

“Colonel Smith, I’m Sergeant Brown, Military Police. I need to ask you a few questions Sir.”

“I don’t have time for this Sergeant.” Hannibal tried to move round him but the sergeant blocked him again.

“I’m afraid you don’t have any choice Sir. Any time military personnel are injured in unusual or suspicious circumstances an investigation is carried out and you have a duty to cooperate. You must be fully aware of that fact colonel.”

Hannibal’s eyes stayed firmly fixed on the car. He was itching to get on his way to the hospital, but a lifetime of following military procedure and the ingrained awareness that he and Face had to conceal their relationship finally kicked in. He turned to look at Brown, his eyes hard, “Ask your questions.”

“The party that you officiated at last night, you and Lieutenant Peck left together. Who was driving Sir?”

“What?” It had not been a question Hannibal was expecting.

“The car, who was driving Colonel?”

Hannibal looked confused as he tried to remember, “I don’t know.”

Brown smiled inside, he would lay odds that Smith had been driving and left it so long to get help so that the alcohol would clear from his system. “Okay then, let’s try what happened out here? How did Peck end up taking a dive off the bridge?”

Hannibal struggled to remember, he still felt numb, but with pieces of feelings and memories floating barely in his reach. When he tried to grab hold of one to make it more solid, it disappeared. “I don’t know, I don’t remember anything about last night.”

The sergeant took a step closer, “Colonel Smith you are going to have to come with us Sir.”

“No.” Hannibal managed to put years of command into that one word, “I have to go to the hospital.”

“It wasn’t a request Sir. Now I’d rather you came with us voluntarily but you are coming with us.” Brown reached up holding onto Hannibal’s arm tightening the hold as the Colonel instinctively tried to pull away. 

B.A. moved quickly in between anger flaring in his eyes as he forcibly removed the hand, “Step back fool.”

Brown shook out his arm as B.A. released his grip, but otherwise ignored him, “Colonel, I have an investigation to conduct here. There’s been an accident that you claim not to have any memory of. Now you need to come and take a breath test and answer some more questions.”

B.A. tensed up and did not move from in front of the Colonel, “Questions about what? He doesn’t remember anything.”

“Colonel, there may or may not be charges to answer here, fleeing the scene of an accident, drunken operation of a vehicle, even conduct unbecoming an officer. Now I don’t know if any of these apply here yet but I do know sir that I can and will bring you in for obstructing an investigation if I have to. Now if you don’t mind colonel.” He stepped back and gestured towards their own car.

B.A. scowled angrily still tensed up and looking like he was going to fight and Hannibal knew that would not do any of them any good. However desperate he felt to get to Face, if they fought here, they would both get picked up at the hospital. He took a deep breath and pulled B.A. back a few steps, “It’s alright B.A. He’s right, we don’t know what happened here.” He turned them both away from the MPs slinging an arm around his Corporal’s shoulders and walking them away slightly. He locked eyes with him blue eyes silently pleading with brown, “Get to the hospital B.A. stay with him and call me, keep me informed.”

B.A. watched Hannibal walk away with the MPs and sat in the car. Whatever the fuck was going on here, it was more than clear that Hannibal was not himself and he reached for his phone. He would do as asked and get to the hospital, but it did not mean that he couldn’t send someone in to look out for the Colonel too. Call completed, he put the car in gear and sped off, overtaking the patrol car with a defiant roar of the engine. Just let the fuckers try and stop him for speeding.

______________________

B.A. made the drive to the base hospital in record time and having checked at reception, he walked steadily through the wide sterile corridors. Making his way up to the second floor in the grim elevator he tried to ignore the feeling in his gut that the too familiar antiseptic smell always produced in him. The alcohol gel dispenser hung lopsidedly on the wall beside the entrance and he used it to cleanse his hands before taking a deep breath and pushing through the double doors. He paused when he stepped though, anxious brown eyes sweeping over the area to see Murdock, the only person there, sitting hunched over, shoulders slumped and head down, on one of the hard metal framed chairs that lined the wall of the waiting area. He was sitting forward on the edge of the seat and B.A. could see his friend’s lips moving silently as his fingers constantly moved over the hem of his t-shirt, bunching it up then smoothing it out. Something about his movements looked odd. There was no baseball cap B.A. realized. They had left so quickly, neither of them had had time to grab anything. When Murdock was upset he would usually remove his cap twisting it around in his hands, the very action helping to calm and ground him. That he was having to use his t-shirt as a poor substitute sent a wave of sympathy through B.A. and he took another deep breath before walking over.

Murdock stood up as soon as he heard B.A.’s unmistakable steps approaching on the grey hard floor. Relief flooded his face at his friend’s arrival, but as he looked around the big guy and noticed the Colonel’s absence the edginess returned, “Where’s Hannibal?” he asked confused.

Grim faced B.A. shook his head slightly, “With the MPs.”

Murdock’s confusion turned to anger, “Why the hell is he with them? He should be here.”

“They’re trying to find out what happened.” B.A. tried to explain without going into details, his own anger bubbling too near the surface. “How’s Face?” He ran his hand over his beard, seeing Murdock’s expression and suddenly not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Murdock paled as he sat back down on the edge of the chair, his fingers returning to the hem of his t-shirt, but his eyes travelling up to stare at the imposing double doors at the other end of the room. Authoritative signs scattered across the doors smooth surfaces barred him from entering. 

“Murdock?” The fear in B.A.’s voice drew him back and he looked up to find that B.A. was now sitting beside him, one big hand resting on his shoulder. He had not even noticed him move.

He nodded towards the doors, “He’s in theatre now. His spleen is ruptured like the doc thought and they were fighting to combat the shock as well. He didn’t look good Bosco. His blood pressure dropped real low,” his voice caught on the last few words.

The sound of the alarms from the machines Face had been hooked up to still rang loud in Murdock’s head, a constant reminder which he knew would not stop until his friend was back with them. He had stayed with Face as long as he could, far longer than the medical personnel were comfortable with, but as he calmly ignored their orders to get out of the resus area and stayed out of their way, they had not had him removed. The sight of his friend just before they had rushed him away was also etched on his mind. The way his eyes had rolled back when the most strident of the alarms had sounded, had sent a cold fear to his stomach which had only increased as he had sat alone waiting for the rest of the team to arrive.

“He’ll be okay Murdock. Faceman anit gonna let this beat him. You know that aint happening.” B.A. squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before moving his hand down to clasp both of his in his lap. He did not move away however, making sure that his arm was resting against the pilots and the cold fear nestling in his stomach became a little more bearable.

They both sat side by side in silence for a while, both staring at the floor, B.A.’s hands clasped still in his lap, Murdock’s returning to twist the hem of his t-shirt.

“What the hell happened?” Disturbing the silence B.A.’s voice carried around the room, “Hannibal aint never been so drunk he can’t remember nothing.” 

“He wasn’t drunk.”

“No.” B.A. agreed softly.

Murdock flicked his eyes up to glance at B.A. before shifting in his seat to face him, “Have you noticed the Colonel acting strangely at all recently?”

“What? No. Why? What are you getting at?”

“I don’t know B.A., maybe it was there and I missed it. Maybe I didn’t see….I mean I should do…..”

“See what?”

“The way he was acting, it was almost like….. like…..” Murdock faltered averting his eyes back to the floor before whispering, “he was coming out of a manic episode.”

“Hannibal aint crazy.” 

Outrage was clear in B.A.’s voice as he shifted in his seat and Murdock raised his eyes up to meet his glare head on fighting down the anxiety he felt at voicing his earlier thoughts, but still needing to put the possibility into words, “Neither was I once Bosco. People get ill…..they…..”

“Hannibal is not crazy,” B.A. interrupted with conviction, “Well no crazier than he normally is anyway.” Now it was B.A. who looked away as he continued quietly, “Did you see his eyes?”

The pilot knew exactly what he meant, “Drugs? That’s crazier than being crazy. Hannibal wouldn’t take drugs.” Murdock countered hotly.

B.A. stood up abruptly, “No point in sitting here guessing. We aint gonna know till Face comes round enough to tell us or Hannibal remembers.” He strode irritably over to the window looking out onto the car park below, eyes drawn automatically to the dented car he had recently left there. He tried to call Hannibal on his cell after, but an automated voice announced that it was switched off. Frustration was growing in him, two of his team were in trouble and he felt powerless to help either of them.

Murdock watched him go before rubbing his hands over his face, resting his elbows on his knees. He peered through the fingers still covering his face turning his head sideways to look at B.A. He glanced back to the operating theatre doors and the knot in his stomach twisted again as he tried to tell himself that no news was good news, Face was in good hands and all the rest of the bullshit clichés invented to make intolerable situations endurable.

Needing to move, he got up and joined B.A. who did not turn to acknowledge him. He stood next to the big man’s side looking at him thoughtfully, “Thank you B.A.” he said solemnly.

“What for?”

“You said I was the best pilot in the army.”

“I didn’t meant it fool.” Irritation clouded his voice.

“Well you said it.” Murdock returned almost accusingly.

“Only so we could get Face out of there. I aint never flying with you.” B.A. did turn to look at him them, the annoyance in his expression matching that in his tone. His frustration kicking up to anger.

“Well Lieutenant Lightyear will.” Murdock took a step forward, “Young Buzz, I like him. He wanted to fly with me. Said he’d heard what a great pilot I was.”

“You fixing up Face’s replacement already then?” B.A. snapped also taking a step forward frustration and anger hanging thick in the air between them which broke in an instant as B.A. registered his words and the look on Murdock’s face. “Ah hell I’m sorry Murdock.” He placed his hand back onto his friend’s shoulder as Murdock reached up to grip his in return. They both looked back to the ominous doors that stubbornly remained closed, “He’s gonna be okay.”

“I know.”

But their words were spoken without any real conviction, the tone more worried than certain.

Murdock slumped back against the wall facing the doors, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as B.A. once again turned to face out of the window.

“It’s not his fault.”

“What?”

“It’s not his fault,” Murdock repeated, “That’s what Face said before the chopper came, that it wasn’t Hannibal’s fault.” There was a pause before he said quietly, “He had fresh bruises on him B.A.” 

“Course he did.”

“No, not from the fall, he looked like he’d been hit.” He knew what bruises from a punch looked like, same as he knew B.A. did.

“Maybe they got into a fight with someone.”

“Maybe.”

They both lapsed back into silence standing facing opposite ways but shoulder to shoulder as they waited together.

____________________

Hannibal did not object to taking a breath test, or to photographs being taken of his injured wrist, but he did object to his phone being taken from him. He objected strenuously and with as much of his command authority as he could pull around him, but he was dealing with a man who knew full well he held the power of military law and regulations and a man who enjoyed using it especially over more senior ranks. Sergeant Brown was barely able to hold back a smug smile whilst he officiously explained cell phones affected the reading of the evidential alcohol reader as he switched it off placing it in his own pocket.

He knew that he had not been drunk. This confused, vague state he found himself in was nothing even remotely like any hangover he had ever had. So he was not surprised when the reading from the machine showed only low traces. He was beginning to feel a little stronger now, less nauseas, and thinking clearer, but the memories of the last hours still eluded him and he felt exhausted. A sense of fear had taken hold in him, fear for Face and fear of not knowing what had happened. That he could not remember what he had done or what he had failed to do terrified him. His hand kept returning to the marks on his wrist, his fingers running over and over them as if the very action would provide the answers he sought.

He was shown into a small clinical looking room in the custody area, with white walls, a table with four chairs the only furniture and no windows.

Brown gestured for him to one of the chairs and sat opposite him, “So Colonel, has your memory improved at all?” The mockery was clear in his voice, but Hannibal ignored it only focussed on one thing

“No. How is my Lieutenant? Have you heard anything from the hospital?”

Changing his approach the sergeant tried to smile sympathetically, “I don’t know, but really Colonel the sooner you start cooperating here and tell us what happened, the sooner you can check on that yourself.”

For a man whose career involved getting people to talk to him, this man was strictly an amateur and not a very talented one at that. Hannibal shook his head snorting an irritated laugh. Hannibal had endured questioning and interrogation by experts both in his training and for real, but what this idiot did not realise was that if he knew what had happened he would in all likelihood tell him. He leant forward across the desk, “I have already told you, that I don’t remember.”

“What is the last thing that you do remember?”

Hannibal sat back rubbing a faintly trembling hand over his eyes, thinking back to the evening before, “We were at the event in Washington Hall on base. I remember smoking a cigar outside, Face…..Lieutenant Peck was there….. after that I don’t know…..”

“All seems very convenient to me Colonel. It does not look like you were drunk, even back calculating your alcohol level it seems doubtful you were heavily under the influence at the time. So what about drugs Sir, did you take any drugs last night?”

“No, of course not. I don’t use drugs Sergeant.”

“Really Colonel? You would not be the first senior officer to indulge. You have a lot of responsibility, a lot of pressure in the type of work you do and it may explain your memory loss if in fact you are telling me the truth here.”

“I’ve told you all I know.”

“Did you crash the car Colonel?”

“I don’t know.”

“You were angry when you left the Hall that much we do know. Why?”

“Angry?” Confused, Hannibal tired frantically to remember leaving, but the questions kept coming, giving him no time to focus.  
“Did you and Peck have a fight? How did you get the marks on your wrist Colonel?”

“I don’t know dam it.” He shouted, seeing the pleased look on Brown’s face at his reaction. He lowered his voice, as he repeated, “I have told you all I know. Now I need to get to the hospital.”

“I have more questions…..”

“Which the Colonel will not be answering until he has spoken to me sergeant,” a tall man with the faint beginnings of middle aged spread made more noticeable as he was wearing shorts and a sports top stood in the now open doorway. As both men turned to look at the newcomer, he stepped forward into the room.

“And you are?”

“Major Patterson Sergeant,” the emphasis on rank was subtle but made its point as the Major showed his army id, “Here to represent Colonel Smith. Now have you arrested him?”

Sergeant Brown stood up slowly, pursing his lips in irritation at the attorneys interruption, “No.” he reluctantly admitted.

“And do you intend to do so right now?”

“No.”

“Well, from what the desk sergeant tells me, Colonel Smith has fully co-operated with you, providing a negative breath alcohol test and allowing photographs to be taken. In which case Sergeant, we will be leaving.”

Brown had no way to hold Hannibal any longer and he knew it, “Off course Major,” he turned to Hannibal with a cold glare, “Colonel, you are free to go, but I would like you to give a sample of blood before you do.”

“You don’t have to Colonel. From what I have been told he has no proof of who was driving the vehicle and no power to require you to take the test. I advise you against it.”

Hannibal stared at the table in front of him, his mind still trying desperately to work out what had happened and he made his decision. He looked back up to Brown, “Make it quick Sergeant and give me my phone.”

With a triumphant gleam in his eye, Brown handed back the phone and went to get a blood kit.

“Hannibal, I strongly advise against this.”

“Keith, what are you even doing here,” Hannibal dialled as he spoke anxiously waiting for B.A. to pick up.

“Baracus called me and I…..”

Hannibal held up his hand to silence him, “B.A., how is he?” listening intently he gripped the phone tighter to steady his hand, as his other rubbed across his forehead shielding his eyes. “Okay I’ll be there soon.” He disconnected the call before B.A. could reply.

“Peck?” Patterson queried softly

Nodding, Hannibal absently started to push up his sleeve, “They’re operating on him now. He has a ruptured spleen.”

As Brown returned with the kit Patterson tried again, “Hannibal I strongly advise you not to consent to this.”

“I want him to take it. I have to know what happened.”

_______________

 

Hannibal sat in the passenger seat of Major Patterson’s car as he drove him to the base hospital and had almost immediately shut out the attorney’s lecturing, thinking over Sergeant Brown’s words. He was angry when they had left last night? He could not remember being angry. He felt so tired, completely drained of all energy and looking out of the open window he felt the wind on his face, closed his eyes and started to drift.

Face’s voice invaded his mind ‘Hannibal are you okay?’ his tone was soft, worried. ‘Hannibal it’s okay….. safe here’ soothing, calming, ‘Hannibal stop. Hannibal’ shouting now with an edge of panic before the voice calling his name morphed into a different less familiar one and he jumped as a hand gripped his arm. He twisted quickly around expecting to see Face but instead found concerned green eyes watching him.

“Hannibal, we’re here.”

Hannibal could feel his heart racing, could feel each rapid beat as it pounded in his chest and reaching his hand out toward the steering wheel he griped it tightly. “I wasn’t driving?” He frowned in concentration at his own question before an image of Face from last night flashed through his mind and he stated more firmly, “I wasn’t driving.”

“What is wrong with you John? Look I’m talking as a lawyer here, but if you were on something last night why the hell did you give him blood? And talking as your friend, well I just cannot believe that you would, but hell Colonel something is wrong. You can run rings round a jackass like Brown, but you let him walk all over you. Why?”

Hannibal sank back in the car seat looking around the hospital parking area.

Patterson continued, “Colonel you need to level with me here. Give me full disclosure and I can start to prepare for whatever Brown will attack with.”

Taking a couple of slow deep breaths, Hannibal looked back to him, “I need to go. I need to see him,” he shook his head as Patterson opened his mouth to object, “And Keith, you know as much as I do about what’s happened. I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” Opening the door and climbing out, he ducked down to look back in, “Thank you for helping out, but I have to go and find the boys.”

The slamming of the car door before the Colonel strode across to the main entrance was as much of a ‘you are dismissed’ order as Patterson had ever heard. The Colonel was a good man, had helped him out at a time when he really needed it and they had been friends for a long time. The reasons that he had postponed his Saturday morning tennis game as soon as Baracus had called him. All good reasons to stay with this and all reasons why he would press Brown for all the information that he had and would help in any way that he could.

______________________

Hannibal stood looking in through the large window to the side of the door into Face’s room just taking in the sight of him, lying unmoving, eyes closed, in the hospital bed. He was hooked up to various machines, all of which he was familiar with and even though he could not hear them through the thick glass, he knew what each one sounded like. He could even state their functions, a long military career teaching him more than he ever wanted to know about medical equipment. The kid looked pale even with the tan he had been topping up in the tanning booth but he could see his bare chest rising and falling steadily and that helped to soothe his frayed nerves. Neither B.A. nor Murdock who were both sitting by the bed had seen him and he took a few moments to gather himself together before he found the courage to enter to room.

As soon as he opened the door both men were on their feet and by his side before he had taken one step forward, both speaking at once. Placing a hand on each of their shoulders as they stood in front of him he silenced their questions about his welfare, grabbing their attention with a firm, “Hey,” they stopped speaking and he gripped the shoulders under his hands, “How is he?”

“Doc said he was lucky and stubborn,” Murdock’s smile reassured him more than his words did, “But that’s Face alright. Landed in between all the rocks on practically the only soft ground down there. It was close,” his smile faltered as he glanced back to the bed, “the tear in his spleen got bigger with all the moving around he did and shock had taken hold, but the doc reckons he’ll be okay.”

Hannibal followed his gaze to the bed as B.A. continued where Murdock had left off.

“They couldn’t repair his spleen so they had to remove it. They’ve started injections to vaccinate against infection to kind of do the job that his spleen used to and he hasn’t come round from the anaesthetic yet, but they don’t anticipate any issues with the concession which was mild.”

Delivered like a field report it was B.A.’s rough voice that gave away how worried he still was. 

“His leg?” Hannibal asked looking at the thin hospital blanket covering Face’s lower body which was raised over that limb.

“More of that Faceman luck Boss, the Doc said it was the cleanest break he has ever seen. No reason the bone won’t knit together perfectly and he can have full use of it again. Will need some hard work to regain the strength, but we all know how determined he can be.”

Hannibal started breathing easier and the constriction that had not let up in his chest since he came to in the car loosened slightly. He moved over to one of the chairs and sat down heavily leaning forward with his hands over his face.

Exchanging a worried look B.A. took the other seat while Murdock stood by the bed running a hand across his friend’s forehead brushing off the hair that had fallen there.

“What about you Hannibal?” B.A. scooted his chair closer, “Do you remember anything else?”

“I don’t think I was driving, but I was with him in the car.” The words were muffled, his hands remaining over his face.

“Well, it’s a start Boss. Anything else?” B.A. had never seen Hannibal like this before, he was almost hiding right in front of them and he was relieved when the Colonel moved his hands down to cross them tightly over his chest.

“No, nothing else. I wasn’t drunk, the breath test proved that.”

“We know Colonel, but do you think that something else could have been in your system? Drugs maybe? You were kind of out of it when you turned up at the house.”

Tension hung in the air as they waited for Hannibal’s reaction to Murdock’s question. Expecting anger what they got was an indifferent shrug as Hannibal lent back in the chair fixing his gaze onto the bed, “We’ll know when the blood test comes back.”

“You let them take blood?” B.A. was surprised and apprehensive.

“I have to know Bosco. I have to know.”

_________________________

The silence was grating on Murdock’s already stretched nerves. There was the constant noise of the medical equipment, but its steady rhythm made it almost disappear, only jarring back into range when something beeped and a nurse came in to check and adjust. Sitting on the wide window ledge he divided his attention between Face and Hannibal. Both as still as the other, one sedated eyes closed, one staring fixedly at the bed one hand clasped tightly around the injury on his wrist.

Murdock and B.A. watched the Colonel with unease. Hannibal was a tactile leader, he got right into your personal space. Used touch to communicate as effectively as he used his voice, an arm around shoulders to guide, a pat to encourage and when needed a softer touch to soothe. It came naturally to him and he used it when any of them were injured, but especially so with Face. But he had not even approached the bed let alone touched the still form lying in it. His current inaction was as unsettling as the silent almost trance like state he had lapsed into.

Hannibal watched every breath that Face took, his mind searching for answers, but each time he seemed on the verge of remembering the images slipped away leaving the same questions echoing around in his head. Was he there when it happened? What if he had not been able to stop Face from falling? How could he have just left him out there? All questions his mind unconsciously shied away from answering as self defence mechanisms kicked in.

B.A. abruptly stood up, the silent waiting getting to him as much as it was Murdock, “I’m going for some drinks,” he looked across to the pilot, “Coke?” receiving a nod he nudged Hannibal’s arm, “Boss you want a drink?”

Hannibal shook his head silently, but at least he looked up at him and shifted in his seat proving he could still move. Murdock had begun to wonder. As B.A. left, Murdock got up and went over to the bed making one of his regular trips to check more closely on his friend. He went through his routine of examining each machine before leaning on the bed rail and trailing his fingers over a cheek and up onto his forehead before brushing through soft hair carefully avoiding the stiches that ran up the side of his brow right next to his hairline. He was startled when he realised that Hannibal had moved and was now standing silently beside him. He made no move to reach out to Face, but at least it was progress.

“Murdock?”

The Captain looked up into haunted blue eyes as Hannibal whispered, “Why can’t I remember?”

“Maybe you’re trying too hard. Just stop trying for a while” He had no other answers to give and he held onto Hannibal’s arm briefly before he moved away, “I’ll go and help B.A.” He left the room giving the Colonel some time alone with Face.

Once again Hannibal’s fingers returned to the injury on his wrist as he stood looking down at Face and he swallowed thickly before reaching out and placing his injured wrist next to his lover’s hand lying unmoving on the bed. Forcing his other hand to move he used it to gently pick up Face’s lax one, caressing the cool fingers tenderly and careful of the tubes running into it, he moved it over to his other hand. Hannibal pressed Face’s fingers around the marks on his wrist. A perfect fit, like he knew they would be. He moved his eyes up to his lover’s face, his need for him to wake up warring with his dread at what he would reveal when he did.

Had he tried to stop Face from falling? Had he not been strong enough to prevent it? Suddenly he felt the fingers on his wrist tighten into a solid grip and his eyes flew down only to see the loose fingers still only resting on the marks. He heard Face’s voice, desperate and afraid, ‘help me Hannibal, please,’ and did not need to look back up to know that Face was still unconscious. He staggered back from the bed letting Face’s hand fall back onto the covers as bile rose up in his throat and he stumbled out of the room passing a stunned B.A. and Murdock with a chocked explanation that he had to leave.

_________________

 

Fighting his body’s reaction to the words he had heard so clearly in his mind, Hannibal pushed down the sickening feeling and strode out of the hospital. Eyes fixed straight ahead of him, he walked through the busy Army base ignoring the salutes that were thrown his way and heedless of the wondering sometimes sniggering looks that the state of his uniform elicited. Leaving the base he let the growing numbness take over his mind as he automatically traced the route to the house the team were using whilst here, his long stride soon taking him onto the more deserted country road.

Lost in the comforting blankness that he had slipped into as he concentrated just on walking it was not until B.A. had called his name for the fourth time that he became aware of the car crawling along beside him and of his Corporal calling him through the open window.

The worry was stark on B.A.’s face as Hannibal finally stopped and turned to look at him.

“Get in Hannibal. I’ll give you a lift home.”

“No.” The forceful refusal was spoken without thought, he just wanted to keep walking, keep moving. He could not get in the car, it would be too confined and too easy to drift off. An image flashed quickly through his mind of a figure looking at him through the windscreen but even as he tried to hold onto it, make it more solid, it was gone leaving an irrational sense of menace in its wake. No….. walking was definitely better.

B.A. peered up at him from the now unmoving car, looking uneasy now as well as concerned and suddenly Hannibal feared the reason that he had been tracked down. “Is it Face? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine Boss, same as when you left. But Hannibal man, you don’t look so good,” B.A. started to open his door to try and coerce the Colonel into the vehicle, “Why don’t you just get in and I’ll drive you home?”

Hannibal pushed back against the door blocking B.A.’s move, “No,” he repeated just as firmly as before and seeing that B.A. was about to argue, he made the effort to reassure him, “Look B.A. I just need to walk for a bit, try and clear my head. I’m okay.” 

“I’ll walk with you.”

“No, you won’t Corporal,” he could not be around anyone right now, not even, or maybe not especially the team, but should have known that that would not work here. That using rank like that on B.A. when he was worried would only make him dig his heels in harder. This was not a combat situation and B.A. thought that he was not thinking clearly and so he would buck an order that he thought went against Hannibal’s welfare. His loyalty to the man had always been greater than his loyalty to rank. And even though he was right, Hannibal longed for solitude and dredged up his best reassuring look and changed tactic, “I’ll be okay Bosco, really. I just need some time and some air,” he looked ruefully down at his rumpled and torn uniform, “and a change of clothes.” Looking back up, he clasped his hand over the muscled arm resting on the window frame, “I need you back at the hospital B.A. Face should be waking up soon and I need you there for him and for Murdock. I’ll join you back there later.” Ignoring the bleakness inside him, he put as much strength in his voice as he could and stood up straighter hoping that it would be enough to convince B.A. He really was not sure if he had the energy to maintain his façade much longer.

B.A. nodded slowly relenting, “Okay Boss, but you keep your phone on and answer it next time I call,” not above fighting dirty himself B.A. added, “I may need to talk to you urgently about Face.”

Digging his phone out of his pocket Hannibal noted the seven recent missed calls and only then realised that he had been unaware of its ringing. A stab of guilt pierced him. If one of those calls had been that he had been needed back at the hospital….. well he would not have heard it and that thought jolted him back to his senses more than anything else that B.A. could have used. “Next time I will answer B.A.,” and with that promise he continued walking.

________________

Hannibal sat leaning back against a strut of the bridge, the coldness from the metal seeping through the thin material of his shirt in sharp contrast to the warmth of the sun on his face, but no memories came to keep him company. He had seen the skid marks up on the road and the paint from the car scraped along the trees from the obvious result of that skid. He was sure that he had not been driving, that was one of the few things that he was certain of, and as he had stood back there looking he could also remember the feel of the wheel under his left hand just before the sound of a crash. He thought that if he sat here on the bridge itself then other memories would creep in. That he would then be able to dismiss Face’s words that had invaded his mind at the hospital and taken up residence in his head and his heart. But he was wrong and as he sat staring down, the only thing he was achieving was an increase in frustration and undirected anger and so he hauled himself to his feet and slogged the remaining few miles back to the house.

He had intended on a quick shower and change of clothes before heading back to the hospital, but as he sat on the bed to put his shoes back on he felt exhaustion pulling at him. He had been keeping going on will power and adrenaline fuelled by his fear for Face and the need to know what the hell had happened, now he sank down onto the bed and could not stop the exhaustion pulling him under into a deep dreamless sleep.

____________________

The dreams came as he surfaced through the deeper layers of sleep into a more aware level. He saw Face, smiling but as he watched a mist crept between them superimposing a grotesque mask over his features, and filling him with fear. Different images constantly played through his mind seamlessly moving from one to the other. Whether memories or dreams he could not be sure but, he lay still, unable to move as they stormed through him. He was gipping the steering wheel, pushing it violently to the side, the next second he was driving heading straight for the trees, accelerating instead of braking. He was terrified, as melting bodies held him down, then he was free, his weapon in his hand as he shot those that hunted him. Each image was accompanied by feelings which felt as real as the pictures themselves. Then there was the one that constantly reappeared and finally forced him fully awake and got him moving quickly into the bathroom to heave into the toilet bowl bringing up nothing but bile, but leaving him fighting for breath. But even fully awake the nightmare continued to haunt him. The same grotesque features that had obscured Face before were staring up at him as he leant down over it, but the mask faded away and suddenly it was Face hanging below him and then gripping his wrist so tightly, but he could still feel his fingers as they slipped over his skin. Felt his own hand stubbornly remain open as he heard the fear in his lover’s voice pleading for his help and he remembered his own feelings of hatred and satisfaction as he let him fall.

Hannibal moved abruptly, starting to pace the small confines of the room and then slammed his fist into the wall, trying to stop the replay in his head. The pain in his hand helped giving him something else to concentrate on and so he moved his fingers down to the scratches on his wrist, his nails digging into the healing wounds and he welcomed the pain as it helped the waking dream recede, but it could not smother the rush of guilt which swamped him. Out of all the confusion that he felt, he knew that this was the truth, no matter how much he did not want it to be and he leant back against the wall siding down to sit on the floor.

______________________________

Sergeant Brown stood silently fuming at the wall that blocked access to his objective. Peering between the solid bulk of Corporal Baracus and the less physically imposing but nonetheless immovable Captain Murdock he could see Peck lying on the bed, his closed eyes and steady relaxed breathing giving testament to his unconscious state.

“He should have come round by now and I insist on speaking to him as soon as possible.”

“You ani’t getting near him fool,” standing at his full height with muscles tensed, B.A. was a daunting sight.

“He hasn’t even woken up yet Sergeant, how exactly to do you intend on speaking to him? ‘Cause if you have some kind of telepathic thing in mind then that won’t work, you see Faceman has barriers…..lots of barriers,” Murdock offered helpfully smiling.

“Get out of my way, both of you. I am going to…..”

“Sergeant,” Captain Curtis interrupted and Brown turned to find the doctor right behind him, “You are supposed to seek medical permission before speaking to any of the patients here, in case that has slipped your mind. The Lieutenant is still recovering from surgery and you will not be able to speak to him until tomorrow at the earliest so I suggest you leave.”

Despite the suggestion sounding like an order, Brown did not give up or back down in the slightest, “I cannot do that, I have an investigation to conduct Sir and I need to speak with Peck today.”

“He is my patient and I am telling you to come back tomorrow and if you don’t like it then get your superior officer to contact me and we will see who wins this little pissing contest,” the Captain moved a step closer, the threat clear in his face and voice, “But I can guarantee that it will not be you Sergeant.”

The standoff only lasted a few seconds as Brown wisely stepped back and with a glance, gathered up Corporal Steadman who had been standing wide eyed near the door and left.

The doctor glared at B.A. and Murdock raising his eyebrow as he stood directly in front of them. Looking sheepish they moved apart to give him access.

“Sorry Doc.” Murdock mumbled.

“Yeah, sorry.” B.A. agreed.

With a sigh Curtis checked the chart at the bottom of the bed and muttered to himself about the inappropriateness of Special Forces machismo in a hospital. In spite of that before he left the room he gave the two worried looking men a brief smile and said, “Don’t worry, he’s doing fine.”

As soon as they were alone in the room again, both men turned sharply round and moved to the side of the bed.

“It’s okay brother, they’ve gone now.”

“Yeah all gone, Facey. Guess you didn’t want to talk to them huh?”

Face’s eyelids slowly slid open to reveal bright blue eyes and he smiled softly up at them before being racked by painful coughing as he opened his mouth to speak.

They had both known that their friend was coming round just before the MPs had arrived, knew him well enough to know that he was awake and probably had been all during the preceding conversation.

B.A. passed the water from the bedside cabinet and Murdock placed the straw in his parched throat. “It’s good to see you awake at last,” B.A. returned the plastic beaker of water and when he turned back he was smiling and holding out his clenched fist.

It was an effort but the fist bump was returned weakly and B.A. changed it into a hand clasp before passing the hand to beaming Murdock who careful of the tubes gripped the hand before manoeuvring them around to softly bump fists.

The three smiles faded as they all sobered and Face raised his head looking down at his body flexing his muscles trying to assess the damage.

B.A. gave the same report on his condition as he had to Hannibal and Face listened, taking it all in even as he glanced around the room looking for the Colonel. Worry began to settle in the pit of his stomach when there was no sign of him. He was pretty sure that he remembered Murdock telling him that the Boss was okay, that he was on the bridge, but events surrounding his being brought to the hospital were fuzzy in places and the pain medication that was so obviously dripping into his arm was not helping. “Where’s Hannibal? Is he alright?” He interrupted B.A. just as he was finishing and the roughness he felt in his throat was evidenced in the huskiness of his voice.

Face did not miss the look that passed between his team mates and his stomach dropped, “What?”

“He’s okay man,” B.A. reassured him, “He was here, but he’s getting a change of clothes and then he’ll be back.”

Murdock was less tactful, “He may be okay physically Face, but he is still acting really weird and believe me I am an expert on different kinds of weird.” He paused briefly to take a breath before rushing through his next sentence, “what the hell happened man?” Face shifted slightly almost squirming on the bed, “Come on Face, what happened?”

“Hannibal didn’t tell you?”

“He doesn’t know,” Murdock fingers were back worrying the hem of his t shirt, “He hardly remembers anything Face. It’s tearing him up, but he can’t remember.”

“And you’ve left him alone?” Face started to try and sit up, but was instantly pushed back down by B.A.’s strong hand on his shoulder.

“Behave Face, you ani’t going anywhere,” feeling the Lieutenant sink back into the pillow, B.A. removed his hand, “I’ve checked on him, he’s gone back to the house to change and then he’s coming back here. He just wanted a bit of time, that’s all.”

“We’ll go and check on him again in a minute,” Murdock promised, “But it’s gonna help us a lot if we know what happened.”

“I don’t know, not for sure anyway.....” he gratefully accepted the water that B.A. offered to him again before he continued with his eyes down, “Hannibal freaked out on me and I mean really freaked out. I think….. I think he was drugged somehow.” He looked up, not sure what he expected to see reflected on the faces standing beside him, but unsurprised at the resigned acceptance that greeted him.

“We figured it might be something like that but how and who by?” B.A. asked as he slammed the beaker of water angrily down on the bedside unit.

“And why and with what?” Murdock added as he lowered the rail on the bed and sat gently beside Face’s leg.

All questions he had asked himself countless times through the seemingly endless dark night he had lain on the ground and all of which he was no closer to answering. “I don’t know. I thought it might be part of a planned attack but no one came after us and if they’d wanted to they could easily have got to us. It had to have happened at the do last night. He was absolutely fine about twenty minutes before we left. Then we spilt up for a while and I think that’s when it started, as we were leaving. Unless it was something really slow working then it had to have been given to him then.”

“So what was he doing then? Who was he with?”

Face looked away, turning his head on the hospital white pillow case until his gaze settled on the one window in the room, but he did not even notice the uninspiring view of the building opposite as his mind wandered back to the night before. He had lost sight of Hannibal in the crowded hall after they had been outside. As soon as he had got back inside, he had been accosted by Corporal Jane Wilson and manoeuvred to the other end of the room where he had passed the time by absently continuing their game of flirtation. His heart had not been in anymore since Hannibal’s acknowledgement of the game, his mind was on what would happen between them when they got home. He had stayed with her until Hannibal had curtly called him away to leave.

“Face, what was he doing? Who could have gotten to him?” Murdock’s repeat of B.A.’s question brought his attention back to his team mates.

“I don’t know. I was busy with some girl,” he reluctantly admitted, “I do know he was at the bar but it was pretty crowded.”

Murdock trailed a finger over Face’s jaw tracing the bruise that marred the skin there, “How’d you get your bruises and how did you fall?”

“It wasn’t his fault, it was whatever shit he was on,” Face really did believe that, whatever had happened, whatever Hannibal had done out there, it wasn’t his fault, “He was really out of it, didn’t know what he was doing,” he added with conviction.

But despite his belief in his own words, he could not totally quash the traitorous feelings of betrayal, fear and distrust that he had felt as he hung from the bridge and which had only intensified in the long painful hours before the others found him. The absolute hatred in Hannibal’s voice and expression as he had done nothing to stop him falling had haunted him in every long hour he had been awake since. 

Aware of the two men waiting and watching him, he hesitantly told what had happened, skimming over the full horror of the bridge, not able to put into words what he had felt. All the while he spoke he was acutely aware of Hannibal’s absence and he pushed aside the part of him that was relieved letting the worry for his lover take over. 

_________________

 

Baines felt sick and it had absolutely nothing to do with the food he had just eaten in the mess hall and everything to do with the main topic of conversation buzzing around the tables. Lieutenant Peck had been injured last night and had been dramatically air lifted to the base hospital this morning whilst Colonel Smith had been seen taken in by the MPS. Speculation was rife and different versions of events were already circulating ranging from the Colonel just being a witness to an accident that Peck was in, to him being arrested for assault and dragged into custody in handcuffs. His questions regarding Peck’s condition were also subject to many different answers, but a nurse who had been on duty was at least able to state that his injuries were not life threatening. 

As he walked out of the mess, his heart was beating fast and his mouth felt dry as he looked nervously around, certain that everyone was looking at him and could see what he had done. He was actually relived when he made it to the training grounds and saw Hampton, Medway and Rodriguez huddled together by the obstacle course. They were talking in hushed tones even though the place was deserted and he knew by their whole demeanour that they had already heard.

Hampton watched him carefully as he approached, “You’ve heard then?”

If Hampton could read him that easily, what had everyone in the mess seen? But then Hampton already knew. Knew exactly what they had done between them. He nodded waiting for them to speak, waiting to see how they were going to react to the news.

Medway placed a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t look so worried Baines, we’re still in the clear. There’s no way they can trace that stuff to us. Smith is the one they’re talking to and he didn’t see Roddi put the stuff in, no one did.” He lay his other hand across Rodriguez’s shoulders who stood next to them looking as nervous as he felt, “Isn’t that right Roddi?”

Rodriguez nodded, “Yeah, I’m certain no one saw me.”

“What if they charge Colonel Smith with something?” It did not feel right, however scared he was about his own involvement.

“Rather him than us.” Medway snapped his façade of friendliness failing away.

Baines swallowed hard, “This could ruin his career. Guys, we have to say something.”

Hampton moved in front of him, “Don’t be stupid. Smith is not going to be charged with anything, he’s a fucking legend. They are not going to go after him.” Medway and Rodriguez followed his lead like they always did and crowded round either side of him. The threat was clear. “You want to be a ranger? Look at yourself Weasel, caving at the first bit of trouble. You’re supposed part of our team here but maybe it’s best you don’t make it through training if you don’t even know what loyalty means.”

“Yeah you’re not fit to be a ranger. Grow some balls,” Medway moved away and started on some warm up stretches. 

“Come on,” Hampton smiled and nodded towards the course, “we’ll help you get your times up, because that’s what teams do isn’t it? Help each other.”

_______________________________

 

Hannibal stood looking into Face’s room through the open window blinds, the more muted night time activity of the hospital going on unnoticed around him. Taking a deep breath as he watched the man he loved lie unmoving, the weight of the guilt crushed down on him pushing his whole body to slump forward and he had to rest his hands on the small ledge under the window bracing his arms to support his weight.

The life that he treasured and that a few short endless hours ago he was so sure of was now broken apart.

He fully intended to go in and face up to what he had done, but Face looked so quiet and still he could not bring himself to walk through the door and quickly turned to move away only to step straight into B.A.’s solid bulk.

B.A. had been returning from walking Murdock down to the car park as he was going to go grab some sleep back at the house and check on Hannibal when he saw the missing Colonel. He stood back, watching Hannibal, willing him to go into the room, but as he saw him move away, he stepped up to block him. “Canteen is this way, Boss. Looks to me like we could both use some caffeine,” without waiting for an answer he steered the Colonel down the corridor.

Sitting at the plastic table, B.A. pushed Hannibal’s yet untouched cup of coffee towards him as he took a sip of his own, “Drink it Boss, come on, you really look like you need it.”

As if on auto pilot, Hannibal picked the cup up and after taking a few sips he finally met B.A.’s eyes and the Corporal recoiled slightly at the pain he saw there. “You remember.” It was not a question.

“I remember…..” he closed his eyes briefly as his voice faltered, “…..I remember bits….. I don’t know how much of it is real, but I do know what I did, B.A. I was there, I could have stopped him from falling, but I let him go.”

There was more emotion in those short sentences from Hannibal than B.A. had heard from Face when he had delivered his report on what had happened. And that is what it had been, a report, factual but spoken like a mission debrief. It was what he had not said that worried both him and Murdock. He had showed more emotion when they had told him about the MPs taking the Boss in for questioning. In fact he had been as mad as hell and only a promise to have Brown at the hospital first thing and Murdock telling him he was too doped up and he needed a clear head when he spoke to them had quietened him.

So B.A. already knew that Hannibal had been there, that according to Face’s terse account the Colonel had not made any move to help him after forcing him off the bridge. The Lieutenant had quickly reiterated his assertion that Hannibal had not known what he was doing, and B.A. had agreed hoping that the Colonel never regained his memory of the night. Just hearing it had been bad enough let alone actually remembering. Unfortunately it looked like the Colonel was not going to be spared the full horror of his memories.

“Face reckons that it was drugs like we said, that you were high on something and that someone slipped it to you at the party.” He leant forward, self-consciously reaching out and resting his hand on Hannibal’s arm, wanting to offer what reassurance he could, “He doesn’t blame you Hannibal.”

“How can he not?” Hannibal pulled his arm away moving it under the table away from the offered comfort, “How can you not blame me?”

“Because it wasn’t you,” B.A. replied instantly and firmly, “He’s been asking for you. Now are you going to go sit with him so I can go back to the house and catch some sleep?”

Hannibal seemed to gather himself together at B.A.’s words, standing up decisively but still B.A. saw him falter and hesitate before he finally went into Face’s room.

________________

Face woke sluggishly, the pain meds making escape from the nightmare difficult as he fought his way to full consciousness. The half-light of the room telling him how long he had been asleep and he felt ashamed at the moment of panic he felt when he saw the empty chair beside the bed. He looked up as he heard someone move at the side of the room and shame did not even begin to cover how he felt when he flinched as he saw Hannibal’s face emerging from the shadows. The face watching him now was nothing like the one that had haunted his dream. Instead of hate and malice there was love and uncertainty in the man watching him, but it was the despair he saw there that had him reaching out his hand.

Hannibal moved over to the bed slowly and as he got closer his expression changed into one that was harder for Face to read but he could clearly see the unshed tears in his eyes and the slump of his body. Hannibal stopped just short of the bed and silence hung heavy in the air between them as they regarded each other almost warily.

“So,” Face cleared his throat, “How’s your day going?” he deadpanned before breaking into a sheepish half smile.

Their old familiar greeting relaxed some of the tension and Hannibal could not help but snort out a laugh but he sobered quickly as he closed the physical distance between them sitting in the chair and without thinking he took hold of Face’s hand. The moisture in his eyes was more visible now, but still unshed as he brought his lover’s hand up to his lips kissing it and then with a jolt he actually thought about what he was doing and released the hand as if burnt.

“I’m sorry Temp. I’m so sorry.”

“They told me you didn’t remember?” The question was clear in his voice as he stubbornly retook hold of Hannibal’s hand.

“I see images, so many images. Some of it I know happened,” he tried without success to pull his hand from Face’s tight grip as a picture of him before he fell flashed through his mind, “But everything is so surreal and unclear in my head. I need to know what is real and what isn’t and you’re the only one who can tell me.” Taking a deep breath it took all of his will power to close his other hand around Face’s so that it was enclosed by both of his own. He met and held his eyes as he pleaded, “No lies Temp. I need the truth Kid. Need it. You understand?”

Face lowered his eyes briefly as he fought the conflict within him. He had no wish to tell Hannibal exactly what happened and when he thought that his lover could not remember, he had concocted a different version of events that would hurt him less. His conflict was over quickly, there really was only one option. Hannibal trusted him to tell the truth and so he had to. Whenever this man had asked that of him, he had always honoured it, never once had he lied to Hannibal when he had trusted him not to, no matter how loudly his instincts cried against it or how much he wanted to.

And so for the second time he told what had happened and regardless of the fact that he kept stopping and explaining that it was not the Colonel’s fault, that he was sure that he had been drugged, Hannibal’s complexion grew paler and his hold on Face’s hand grew weaker.

As Face spoke of the chase after the crash, Hannibal interrupted for the only time.

“Did I shoot at you?” The image of firing on his pursuer was so strong in his head that he had to ask and the relief at the negative answer was the only respite from the maelstrom of more punishing emotions that were surging through him.

Face did not tell him everything, leaving out the words Hannibal had spoken as he had tried desperately to hold onto the metalwork. In fact he skipped over what he could from that part without breaking his obligation to the truth, he told the bare facts without embellishment.

As Face finished, Hannibal bent his head down, “I’m sorry, so sorry,” he repeated his earlier words as he released Face’s hand.

Face reached up and ran his fingers gently through the slightly matted silver hair, “It’s okay John.” He had seen Hannibal upset before, had even seen him cry. Face had been the one he had turned to when his Father died and Face had held him close and rode the storm with him when he had finally let the tears fall. But he had never seen Hannibal like this, almost broken. It tore at his heart and it scared him, “It’s okay. I’ve told you, it’s not your fault, I don’t blame you.”

Hannibal’s laugh was short and bitter but he did not look up, “That’s why you flinched when you first saw me is it?”

“Do you honestly believe that I would think that you could do that if you were in your right mind?”

It did not escape Hannibal’s notice that the question had been avoided and he looked back up straight into worried blue eyes, but there was also a hesitancy there that he had never seen before. “You flinched from me.”

Face let his hand fall back onto the bed, “I’d just woken up, I’m still on pain meds and it meant nothing.” He ploughed on hoping to divert attention away from a subject that he did not want to discuss. The nightmare he had woken from still vivid in his mind, he did not want to go there right now or ever if possible. “What is important is what we tell the MPs. We need to get our stories straight Boss, they’ll be here in the morning.”

The diversion worked as Hannibal sat up straighter, “What do you mean?”

“The guys said they took blood, so it cuts down the options a bit, but…..”

“I can’t cover this up Face, I won’t. I almost killed you.” His voice broke on the last words.

“How many times do I have to say it John, it wasn’t you.” Face shifted on the bed, turning paler as pain shot along his nerves. He could not be sure if it emanated from his leg, his stomach or his head, but he stayed Hannibal’s hand as it reached for the button that would deliver more pain relief. 

“Kid, come on, let the medication do its job.”

Face missed the hand that would have normally made contact with him at this point, whether a pat on an arm or if they were more alone a caress along his cheek, normally there would have been something. He shook his head, hating the way the meds had made it so much harder to escape his nightmare. He saw Hannibal’s finger hover over the button indecision in his expression and Face glared at him until he moved his hand away.

“We can’t tell them the truth Hannibal,” he continued their conversation without missing a beat, “They will go after you with all guns blazing and what if we can’t prove that you didn’t take whatever they find in your blood deliberately.”

“I won’t cover this up Face.”

“Okay well, you don’t actually remember much yourself yet anyway, so just hold off until you do. Give us some time to figure this thing out.” His voice was getting weaker as despite the pain, his body was trying to pull him back into sleep.

“It’s okay Temp, you need to rest, we’ll talk later. Just sleep now.”

Perhaps it was the absence of fingers running through his hair as the soft words were spoken that prevented him from slipping into a deep sleep, maybe it was the lingering images of his nightmare or the pain. Whatever the reason even though the Colonel moved silently, Face came awake again as he was leaving the room.

“Where are you going?” Hannibal paused with his hand on the edge of the open door but walked out without looking back, “Hannibal?” Face laid his head back heavily on the pillow, “Shit,” he swore and reached his hand over to pull out his IV.

_______________________

 

After grabbing a meal from the hospital canteen, B.A. was on his way for a quick check on how Hannibal and Face were doing before heading home when he heard the alarms sounding from the now abandoned nurses’ station. They said Face was out of danger, but B.A. knew from bitter experience all about possible post op complications. Quickening his pace he entered Face’s room his eyes immediately focusing on the bed dreading what he would see, but actually relieved as he took in what was happening.

Face looked so pale and ashen that he almost blended in with the stark whiteness of the pillow case, but he was still moving, struggling against the Doctor and two nurses that were trying to hold him still. The alarms were not warning of a medical crisis but were the result of the detached wires from his monitors and IV that had been pulled out and B.A. knew that had not been accidental as he noted Hannibal’s absence.

Still looking calm Captain Curtis glanced up to one of the nurses, “Get some midazolam, I’m going to have to sedate him.”

Face zeroed in on B.A. his look pleading and his breathing harsh, “No. B.A. don’t let them.”

The Corporal was at his side in an instant moving the nurse away gently but firmly as he took her place holding his friend’s arm. “I won’t, but you need to help me here brother. You need to calm down and start breathing right.”

“Hannibal.” He gasped out the word as he continued to try and push himself off the bed.

“I know, you can tell me in a minute. Just keep still and breath with me.” He did not take his eyes from Face. He watched his friend and forced his own breaths to be deep, even and visible, saw Face almost unconsciously start to mirror him as he calmed and sank back into the bed ending his fight to leave. He saw when Face’s eyes shifted to the side and the weariness there told him that he had seen the syringe that he had heard being brought into the room. He held his hand up silently asking the doctor to hold off before placing his hand onto Face’s cheek bringing his gaze back to focus on him and glassy blue eyes met solid brown ones. B.A. saw the desperation recede from his eyes and felt movement under his palm as Face nodded slightly, acknowledging that he understood what B.A. was telling him. 

The doctor stepped in and reattached the monitoring pads to Face’s chest and instructed one of the nurses to replace the IV lines using fresh sterile needles as he examined Face’s leg and stomach. Face let them get on with it and kept his attention on B.A. “Hannibal has gone to hand himself into the MPS. You’ve got to stop him Bosco.”

He should have known. The Colonel was a man of honour and doing the right thing was as much a part of him as breathing. But he was trying to take responsibility for something that was out of his control and that most certainly was not the right thing.

B.A. nodded but did not immediately move away, “You stay here. Let them finish checking you over?”

He saw Face’s mouth tighten in frustration at his enforced inaction, “Well, I don’t really have much choice on that one do I?”

“It’s never stopped you trying before.” B.A. grumbled as he released Face’s arm and left the room. 

________________________

B.A. disconnected his call and turned around as Captain Curtis approached him, complaining under his breath, “Dam fool is lucky he didn’t start haemorrhaging, moving about like that,” shaking his head he stopped in front of B.A. pleased to find that he had not left.

“That stubbornness that you were so pleased about, that you said helped him survive Doc? Well that’s the down side, right there.”

“I don’t usually encourage visitors to stay…..”

“I ain’t leaving.”

“But,” Curtis emphasised the word as he continued speaking, “In this case I am making an exception. Try and keep him quiet and get him to understand that he cannot do anything strenuous for a while and for at least twenty four hours that includes getting out of bed.”

B.A. closed the door behind him and met the full force of Face’s glare without flinching, noting his improved pallor, “Major Patterson is on his way to help Hannibal right now Face,” as the Lieutenant opened his mouth to protest, he was cut off before he even started, “He’s a good lawyer and more use to the Boss than I would be and you know it.”

Pulling the only chair in the room that was padded over to the bed B.A. sat down heavily running a hand back and forth over his mow hawk. “If I went down there, I’d probably end up in the cell next to him, you know I would. Just like when you and me went to get Murdock out that time an’ the Boss ended up having to come down and bail all three of us out. But the Major knows how to deal with the system, he can help him.”

Face finally stopped glaring as he exhaled a breath through pursed lips, “If Hannibal lets him,” he said quietly.

Silently B,A. agreed, but he also knew how Hannibal had been running from the team, how he could not accept that they did not blame him for what happened, “Face, he may listen to him more than us right now. Someone not so.....” he searched for the right word, “…..Involved.”

B.A. was not used to taking on this role and a deep gnawing doubt was settling in his gut. The Lieutenant was the XO, always stepping up when the Boss wasn’t around, but Face was in no state for that right now and B.A. worried that he was making the wrong decisions. Then he looked at Face and knew that there was no way that he would leave him alone right now, but that did not stop his natural instincts to get to Hannibal and help him either. But what could he or Murdock for that matter do if Hannibal was in custody. He had been way too late to be able to catch up with him before he would have reached the station. He could not stand the thought of the Boss in the brig. Usually when he had found himself in there, he grudgingly admitted that he had deserved it. The discipline of the army was difficult for him when he had no respect for the officers giving him orders. The respect he had for Hannibal and the pride in his whole team had made regular stays in the brig a distant memory. Hannibal did not belong in the brig, never deserved he be imprisoned and he did believe that Patterson would be the best person to get him out. 

______________________

Hannibal sat ramrod straight in the hard metal chair in the front office of the military police station ignoring the glances that were often sent his way from the station officer. Brown was off duty and they had so far been unable to contact him, his phone ringing out and as the Private on the desk had tactfully and respectfully reminded him, it was the middle of the night.

Seeing Face had been both joy and torture. The feelings of relief and elation at being able to talk to him, to know for certain and see with his own eyes that he was alright were overshadowed by the guilt and memories that had returned with such horrific force. He could tell as he had watched Face that his sleep had not been restful, but still reeling he had not been physically capable of approaching the bed to soothe him. A dagger had pierced his heart when Face had startled awake and flinched when he saw him. Hannibal had half expected to look down and see himself bleeding and no matter what his lover said, he knew that something had changed between them, that something precious was lost.

Face wanted to lie, wanted to protect him even now, but how could he allow that after what he had done? So he sat and waited, but it was not Brown who walked in through the doors but Keith Patterson. Hannibal only glanced at him before standing up and approaching the young solider on the desk who had beckoned him over.

“Sir we still cannot contact Sergeant Brown and he is the officer in the case, unless it’s urgent we suggest that you come back in the morning.”

Major Patterson took hold of his arm, “There is no hurry Private. Myself and the Colonel will catch up with him tomorrow.” He steered a resisting Hannibal around, “Sir the young man is right we can do this tomorrow, but I need to speak with you first.”

Once again Hannibal found himself sitting in the Major’s car, still a parking lot but this time outside the custody suite and the agony of speculation and questions had been replaced by the torment of knowledge.

“That was not the smartest thing you have ever tried to do,” Patterson broke the heavy silence, “I can help you Hannibal but only if you let me.”

“I don’t want your help Major, I certainly don’t deserve it. I pushed him off that bridge and I will face the consequences of that.”

“Peck seems certain that you were under the influence of drugs.” Not about to be put off Patterson turned in his seat to face the Colonel who was staring fixedly out of the front windscreen, “Now you tell me Hannibal does that fit with how you were feeling when you came round? How you’ve felt through all of this?”

His gaze remained fixed but he nodded tersely.

“Look at me Hannibal, I need to ask you something.”

Hannibal blinked and turned his head slowly to face his old friend.

“Did you deliberately take drugs last night?”

“No,” the denial was automatic and instant, he knew that he hadn’t, that he wouldn’t and a glimmer of something other than guilt forced its way into his mind, “No I did not.”

“Then the person who did this is the one we want Hannibal. That’s what we need to focus on.”

The fog that had encased his mind began to lift as Hannibal started to think rather than let his emotions totally rule him. Revenge was a colder, clearer emotion than guilt and he used it to push back the more dangerous feelings which had assailed him.

____________________

Looking up anxiously as B.A. entered his room putting his cell phone in his pocket, Face had to fight back his natural instinct to push up from the bed. Memories of the pain the last time he had along with B.A. warnings still loud and clear in his head kept him still and as he studied his friend he relaxed slightly as he took in his expression and body language.

“It’s okay Face, he is with Murdock back at the house. Patterson got to him before he spoke to anyone at the station.” 

Face nodded as more of the tension left his body, “Good.”

B.A. snagged a blanket from the bottom of the bed and settled himself in the padded chair, “Now get some sleep man.”

Face watched him shift around, he looked so uncomfortable, his large muscled frame squeezed awkwardly into the small chair, “Go home B.A. get some proper sleep. You can’t sleep in that chair.”

“Shut up fool,” the reply was mumbled as he closed his eyes.

Face did not want him to go, just knowing that B.A. was there helped him, but the shame he felt at needing him to stay was nothing compared to the feeling of being safe his presence gave him. Irrational and selfish he thought as he lifted his head and really saw how exhausted B.A. looked, so he tried again, “Bosco, you don’t need to stay.”

Deep brown eyes opened to glare at him, “I’ve slept in worse places haven’t I?” Under the gruff words lay a whole world of shared hardships.

Face let his head drop back onto the pillow staring up at the ceiling, “Yeah, well there was that little Hitler of a Sergeant Major’s bed for a start.” He looked back over to B.A., “I know she was stacked, but really Bosco what were you thinking?”

“Shut up fool.”

“Nice come back big guy.”

“You want me to remind you of your night with Denise Whittaker?”

“Ummm, fair point.” The banter was familiar and comforting, but he let the matter drop as B.A. really did have a lot more ammunition against him on that one. He went back to staring at the ceiling and listened to his friend’s breathing even out into the rhythm of sleep. Long hours later, he knew every mark and every crack on that ceiling and he kept his mind busy tracing the shapes of each one in his head.

Hannibal lay on his bed in the darkness of the room staring straight up, unable to look at the empty space beside him. Sleep would not come and he did not want it. The last time he slept the images had come crashing in and knowing the truth now would not make it any easier if they returned in his dreams. So he lay staring upwards and not thinking about the space beside him.

_______________________

 

It was easier than Face thought it would be to get the investigating officer to reveal the results of the blood test before he gave his version of events. He wanted as much information as possible before he spoke and the Sergeant helped him out not even trying to keep his cards close to his chest. Of all the possibilities PCP was not really one he had considered, but he should have done. It seemed so obvious now. Hannibal’s bizarre behaviour, his fear, the way he had looked at him without recognition, it all fit.

The Sergeant was almost proud to reveal what he knew and the insincerity practically flowed out of him as he tried to sympathise with Face. His intent was clear. He wanted to hear that the Colonel was responsible for him being injured and that he had taken the drugs himself. The man was going to be disappointed as Face set about spinning his own version of the truth.

“I’ve served with Colonel Smith for nine years and I have never known him to take drugs, the guys have been with us for four and they’ll tell you the same thing. The Colonel is vehemently anti drugs. But I do know that he has made a lot of enemies any of whom could have arranged for that stuff to be slipped to him.”

“I understand your loyalty Lieutenant but it is misplaced.”

“It’s the truth, you idiot,” B.A. snapped from his position leaning against the wall next the head of the bed. Arms crossed, scowl in place and wearing a vest which showed off his biceps perfectly, he was a formidable figure. 

Face smirked at the glare Sergeant Brown sent in B.A.’s direction. He had wondered how long it would take Brown to wind up B.A. and the answer was less than ten minutes.

“Like he said,” Face smiled as the Sergeant turned his glare to him, “It’s the truth.”

Turning his glare into a forced smile and obviously not yet letting go of the, I really am your friend here play Brown continued, “Tell me what happened. Who was driving and how did you end up down in the gully?”

“I was driving. Colonel Smith started acting a bit strange, like he wasn’t tracking you know? The way he was acting I thought he might have been drugged, that somehow someone had slipped him something. So I started speeding ‘cause I wanted to get back to the house quick. And I lost control. Then the Colonel ran from the car and I went after him the bridge was slippery and it was dark, he was just sitting on the walkway underneath, I lost my footing and went over trying to reach him. The colonel tried to help me, but I fell anyway.”

“And he just left you there?” The disbelief was clear in Brown’s voice.

Face ignored it and pushed aside the unexpected stab of hurt he felt at hearing one of the thoughts that had been running through his head stated out loud. “Maybe he went for help but passed out. I don’t know. I’m telling you what happened. Colonel Smith is not to blame for any of this. If you try and lay any kind of charges, I won’t testify against him and if you force me I will be the hostile witness of your worst nightmares. I’ll be more help to his side than yours.”

Brown fixed Peck with a calculating stare. He had been blocked from speaking to Smith first thing this morning, not only by his lawyer but also by some big brass on base. The higher ranks closing round to protect their own, but he had been told of his attempt to see him during the night and cursed that he had left his phone on silent. “And if the Colonel’s convenient memory loss miraculously returns, will he tell me the same thing?”

“Doesn’t matter what he tells you really does it? By your own evidence he had PCP in his system, that does not exactly make his memory of events reliable now does it?”

All pretence of friendliness and sympathy was well and truly gone by the time the sergeant left and B.A. met Face’s eyes as he looked back at him. He nodded and pushed himself away from the wall, “I’ll go let Murdock know.”

“I need to see…..”

“Hannibal,” he finished for him, “yeah I know. I’ll tell him.”

“Bosco?” 

B.A. paused at the door at the hesitant tone and looked back.

“Thanks.”

B.A, flashed him a smile and a wink before heading out.

________________________

 

The kitchen table was neatly laid out into the blueprint of a house, perfectly straight lines of salt marking out each room and as Hannibal passed by, Murdock placed a gleaming metal bolt into one of the rooms. The Colonel glanced back over his shoulder as he waited for the kettle to boil for his first morning cup of coffee. He noticed B.A.’s tool box sat beside the Captain, its lid open and he watched as Murdock removed another shinny bolt and placed that into another of his mapped out rooms.

B.A.s inevitable reaction to Murdock messing with his kit should have stirred Hannibal into action, but he just turned back to watch the kettle, resting both his hands onto the kitchen counter.

Nevertheless Murdock replied as if the Colonel had spoken, “They don’t like being kept in that dark, cramped box just waiting to be grabbed hold of and squeezed between the steel pinchers of a wrench or worse,” he looked up at Hannibal torment in his expression and seemingly oblivious to the Colonel’s inattention, “I’ve hidden Bosco’s drill, but I can’t find his rivet machine thing. Can you imagine how they feel Boss? Just waiting to be plucked from that cold dark box. No one understands their plight.”

Getting no response, Murdock shifted one of his bolts moving it into the room with the smiley salt face in the corner, it looked like a happy bolt and then at the lengthening silence he looked back up. “B.A. called,” he saw Hannibal lift his head but noticed that he was still resolutely facing away from him, retrieving a mug from the cupboard, “Face is doing well and the MPs have been in. That sergeant, the one who took you in was there. Face has spoken to him.”

“Face has lied to him.”

“You know Faceman Colonel, he wouldn’t call it lying. He’d call it being selective.” Murdock was still looking at Hannibal’s back and the stony silence that fell again spoke volumes. “He told them none of it was your fault Hannibal, that he fell from the bridge and that you tried to help him.”

Hannibal straightened, the muscles in his back tense and his hand gripped the coffee mug so hard that his knuckles turned white, “He lied.” he repeated.

“Not really,” Murdock brushed the statement aside, “It was not your fault.” He retrieved another bolt from the tool box examining it as he twisted it between his fingers trying to decide which room this one belonged in. He looked back up, “The blood tests came back. You had a substantial amount of PCP in your system Boss. We just need to find out how it got there.”

The sound of the mug hitting the counter echoed loudly as Hannibal spun on his heels and headed out of the door.

Murdock placed the bolt in his hands in the room with the sad salt face in the corner before he stood up and finished making the coffee.

______________________

It was a beautiful morning, the sun had burnt off the early mist, the sky was clear, and a gentle breeze stirred the air preventing the heat from becoming too stifling. Hannibal sat a little way off from the house, his back resting against one of the tall pine trees which populated the whole area. The sleeves of his blue shirt were rolled up to his elbows, his long denim clad legs were stretched out in front of him and his hands hung limply by his side. His gaze was fixed, starting down the road that led to the bridge. 

Murdock flopped haphazardly down beside him landing at an angle facing the Colonel and seating cross legged. Somehow he managed not to spill any of the coffee contained in the two mugs he carried and he triumphantly held one out for Hannibal.

“You forgot your coffee boss.”

Hannibal took the offered mug but placed it on the dusty ground beside him untouched.

Murdock lifted his own mug and drank the cooling liquid down in one, watching Hannibal over the rim as he did. He lowered the mug placing it neatly beside the other on the ground. “Face wants to see you,” he said carefully.

Hannibal closed his eyes as he felt the guilt that had only been absent when he had finally sunk for a few hours into a dreamless sleep spasm high up in his chest. The thought of walking into that hospital again, of seeing Face lying in that bed, of seeing what he had done was more than difficult. “I’m busy this afternoon. I’ll go in later.” He spoke quickly berating himself for being a coward even whilst searching to justify his words, “I need to…..”

“So PCP huh?” Murdock’s softly spoken words interrupted the excuse, “Any ideas on who or why?”

Hannibal shook his head facing Murdock for the first time that morning, “I’ve been trying to think of a reason, of anyone who was there who would have cause to hate me that much, hell even how I could have taken it accidently. Everything gets hazy after Face and I were outside, it must have been after that.”

“That’s what Face reckons too.”

Murdock did not miss the way Hannibal turned away from him as he mentioned their injured team mate.

“I know what it is.” Murdock stated quietly, one hand reaching out, his fingers playing idly around the handle of the empty mug on the ground.

“What?”

“To see things that aren’t real, but to know that they are.”

Looking back up Hannibal saw Murdock staring at him intently and forced himself not to look away again. He needed to hear what the Captain had to say, needed to come to terms with the knowledge that his mind believed what it was seeing last night. That he had lost control so totally that he truly believed that the person with whom he shared the closest relationship of his entire life was some kind of creature trying to kill him.

The almost pleading look on Hannibal’s face gave Murdock the courage to continue. He did not like to talk about his darkest days, days that had thankfully not reappeared since his family had found him. The man in front of him now was the one who had pulled him out, the one who had gotten him away from the hospital where the darkness was threatening to pull him back. Not trying to help was just not an option.

“At my first hospital, the first time they took me in, I was in a bad way Hannibal. There was this nurse, she was real nice to me you know. But my mind…..” he faltered slightly trying to find words to describe what was indescribable, “My mind went into a cave while I was in there and one day when she came to give me meds all I saw was a demon who wanted to cut out my heart and eat it while it was still beating. She wasn’t holding a syringe she was holding a knife and as she got nearer I could smell the stench of hell on her. Her breath reeked of rotten flesh and cold tea.”

“I could feel the claws on my scalp.” Hannibal softly breathed out the words as the memory became solid.

“Taste, touch, smell, everything is so real, even things that can’t be true, are.” Murdock agreed, “I’ve learnt how to feel it coming, to know when I need to divert myself or get help to,” he smiled as he thought of the times Face had helped divert him, knowing instinctively what he needed without Murdock having to tell him, “but back then, there was no warning. I reacted to the nurse as if she were a demon, they put me in restraints for a week and she never came near me again. The things I see when I’m in that place are real. I react to them because to me they are real and I had to accept that a long time ago. It is the only way not to drown.”

“What about Billy?”

Murdock looked up surprised at the gentle question, he did not think that anyone except Face knew about Billy. But he should have known that the Colonel would pick up on it, there was not much that he missed. He shrugged drawing random patterns in the dirt with his finger, “I know that no one else sees him, but he is real to me.”

Leaning his head back against the rough bark, Hannibal tilted his face up, looking at the branches spreading out above them lost in thought as he watched the smaller ones swaying in the gentle breeze.

“You were in a place Colonel where nightmares are real and reality cannot be seen. You’re not to blame for this.”

“Would you be saying the same thing if Face had died?” Hannibal almost choked on the words.

The thought of losing Face from his life was enough to make the darkness press at the edges of his mind, but there was still only one answer. “Yes.”

Letting out a slow steady breath as he watched the branches Hannibal acknowledged the truth of what Murdock was telling him and the guilt released its stranglehold on him. It faded to a more manageable feeling but still he could not escape the cold hard facts. The facts that Face was all too familiar with and he turned back to his Captain.

“No matter what drugs were in my system Murdock, no matter that I believed I saw, it was still me that pushed him off that bridge,” he took a deep anguished breath, “Me that he begged to help him, my hand that let him fall and me that drove away and left him there.”

“But not you who took the drug. You were not in that place of your own free will.” Murdock thought of Hannibal’s reluctance to go to the hospital, of his two disappearing acts when he had gone and he knew what his continuing absence would do to his friend. “Face needs you Hannibal, don’t pull away from him now. Since you two finally got it together, you know since you got your emotional auras in sync with your physical beings he has been more settled, more grounded and you’ve been more Hannibal.”

Hannibal went back to staring up at the branches, sometimes Murdock was hard to understand, but a great deal of what he had been saying made sense, he knew it did. Feeling it was another matter, but he was not going to fix things by sitting on his butt under a tree all day. He squinted at Murdock, “Emotional auras?”

Murdock nodded.

Pushing himself up off the ground, Hannibal held out a hand and pulled Murdock to his feet, “Come on Captain, I need a coffee before we head out.”

Murdock stooped over and retrieved the mugs holding one out to Hannibal’s retreating back, “You don’t want this one?”

“It’s cold Murdock.”

Taking a long drink from the mug, Murdock followed him back to the house, “Cold coffee’s nice,” he insisted as he hurried to keep up with the Colonel’s longer stride.

_______________________

The other half of the team were playing cards when Hannibal and Murdock arrived at the hospital and B.A. looked up from his seat beside the bed when they entered.

“He’s cheating man,” he grumbled, shaking his head in annoyance.

Face smirked, his expression saying prove it as effectively as if he had spoken the words.

In these friendly little games between the team, Face never pretended that he was not cheating, and the challenge had always been to figure out how he was doing it.

As B.A. glared at Face who looked back at him totally unrepentant Hannibal took the opportunity to look his Lieutenant over more closely. The various pads that had been on his chest were now gone and he wore a black t-shirt top as he sat propped up by two pillows. He was pale certainly, his eyes showed the pain he was feeling and Hannibal frowned at the clear indication that he was not using the pain relief medication as he should be. That was nothing new, Face hated the way the stuff made him feel usually preferring to deal with the pain or only take enough to take the edge of. And Hannibal hated it, watching him hurting when the medication could help. His movements as he finished the hand of cards were weak. They were not as strong and sure as normal and contained none of his usually grace and fluidity. Every movement seemed to be an effort.

As Face predictably won the hand B.A. pushed the chair back and stood up, moving away to stand near Murdock and leaving room for Hannibal by the bed. The Colonel had always been the best at catching him cheating and he reached forward slipping large fingers under a fold in the sheet bringing out two cards. Hannibal looked at him, his lips twitching into a half smile and Face grinned back at him.

“Must be more tired than I thought I should’a seen that one.” B.A. moaned from across the room and Murdock looked at him fondly with a big sappy grin. Face was not up hiding his movements and B.A had known, he’d just let Face get away with it.

“What fool?” B.A. barked as he noticed the grin.

“I’m gonna buy you breakfast Bosco,” and with a final look and wave over to Face, he left followed by B.A.

The silence that followed them leaving was hard for Hannibal to break as they locked eyes and Face’s grin faded, “So…..” he began.

“Yeah.” Face exhaled loudly and took a breath to continue.

But Hannibal rushed ahead not sure he wanted to hear what Face was going to say, “So, how are you feeling? And bear in mind I’ve just spoken to your doctor.” He had learned long ago to get a medical opinion before asking for Face’s assessment of his injuries.

The smile was back and it held a knowing warmth that Hannibal felt he did not deserve, “Of course you have.” The smile turned into a more serious expression and Face shifted to sit up straighter, “I hurt a bit, but it’s not too bad, side is the worst and I want to rip the cast of my leg ‘cause it’s annoying the hell out of me. And I tell you Boss the nurses in this place need a lot of work on their bedside manner, do you know one of them…..”

“You shouldn’t have lied.” Hannibal interrupted suddenly as he finally sank wearily into B.A’s vacated chair.

Pausing Face looked down before bringing his eyes up back to Hannibal with his head tilted, “I had to,” he said quietly, “I wanted to.” He needed to make sure, “You haven’t…..?”

“No.” Hannibal bowed his head.

“Good.” Face nodded as he bit at his lower lip, content that Hannibal had not spoken to the MPS. He knew what this would be doing to his lover, knew that Hannibal would not find it easy to forgive himself for this, even though his actions had been driven by the drug. And he hurt for him, wanting to take the guilt and pain away, but there was still that little part of him that whispered in the back of his mind ‘can you forgive him?’ It was the same part that felt the old familiar sickening pain of betrayal as it replayed Hannibal’s voice saying his name telling him to die before letting him fall. Betrayal was a feeling that he had not felt for many years, not since he had chosen to stop trusting people. Hannibal had been the first to smash through his resolve and the trust that had grown between had been absolute. He had forgotten the awful sick pain of that feeling and he fought back other memories from long ago that the emotion stirred up in his mind.

Face knew especially now that they had found out about the pcp that it was not Hannibal’s fault but that did not stop the memory of his fall from fuelling the feelings. But as Hannibal sat keeping his head down, shoulders slumped that little part of him was pushed further away and he asked, “Are you okay John?”

That bought Hannibal’s head back up, “I’m not the one lying in a hospital bed,” he rested a hand on the blanket by his lover’s arm, but stopped shy of making contact. “I know I said it last night, but I am so sorry. I didn’t know it was you Temp I swear and I am so sorry.”

Face heard the pain in his voice, “I know, it’s okay,” he soothed.

“Do you?” Hannibal pinned him with a look trying to assess how his lover was truly feeling, well aware of his tendency to brush aside and cover up what he felt. He needed to know what he was thinking and he knew Face was holding back on him, but he did not know how much.

“Yes…..No…..It’s just…..I mean…..What was it like for you? What did you see?” He pulled away from Hannibal’s gaze as he finished, “Did you know I was there at all?”

There was silence as Hannibal waited for him to look back and when he did Hannibal shifted forward in the chair getting as close as he could without actually sitting on the bed.

“Some of the memories are more real than others, some I think have come from what you’ve told me and some that seem real, like taking a shot at you, I know that they didn’t happen.”

Although Hannibal was still looking at him his eyes looked far away as he continued, “The last certain memory I have of you is when we were outside smoking. There were things attacking. Creatures….. it sounds so stupid but it was real to me at the time. They were real. I don’t remember it all but the feelings are clearer. I’ve never known anything like it, the terror and panic, the need to get away, I could actually feel them, feel their claws, their breath…..”

His voice was getting shaky and the hand resting on the bed had a light tremor to it. Face swallowed hard. He was not used to seeing Hannibal like this, he was normally so strong, so sure, the one who anchored him. He had seen him frightened before, they had lived too closely together and been through too much shit not to have seen each other scared. But the way he was talking now, this he had never seen before and it made his heart ache.

“Hey it’s alright, you don’t have to tell me.” He did not want to hear anymore, not if it meant seeing Hannibal like this.

Hannibal’s eyes refocused onto him, “I didn’t know it was you kid, do you understand?”

“Yeah, I knew at the time, you were drugged I just didn’t know it was with PCP. I could have handled it better. I should have known that it was something like that. Should have reacted faster.”

“No Face. You saved my life out there and I could have killed you.”

“But you didn’t Hannibal,” he finally reached out and took hold of Hannibal’s hand, but the movement wasn’t natural as it had always been before, it felt forced. “And we will get through this.”

There was determined steel in Face’s voice and Hannibal wanted to believe that everything would be fine, but he was not a man who lied to himself and he knew it was not going to be that easy. Because he knew that Face did lie to himself and the tone of his voice was the one he used when he was trying to convince everyone including himself of something that was far from certain. But Hannibal did not call him on it even though he knew that Face was not being completely open, the fact that his lover was here with him, holding his hand and not blaming him was so precious he could not ruin it by digging into the surface calm. He needed this respite and pushed aside any nagging doubts.

“But we do need to keep this in house Boss, you know we do.”

Hannibal knew what he was asking, “Okay, I won’t go against what you’ve told them. You’ve made it impossible anyway, they’re hardly likely to see a drug crazed old Colonel as a credible witness.” He continued quickly before Face could protest his choice of words, “But we will find out who’s responsible for this.” His expression darkened and was matched by Faces.

“Oh yeah.”

They tossed ideas between themselves over who and how not really making any progress until Face finally succumbed to his body’s demands and fell asleep. As he slept Hannibal alternated between pacing the room and sitting next to the bed, but his eyes rarely left the still form of his lover.

When Face woke Hannibal was speaking in hushed tones and he caught the end of his sentence, “…..has to be now?”

He lay still, as without even thinking, well honed instincts kicked in as he waited to hear the other voice. Assessing his surroundings before giving away his altered state.

“That dickhead Brown is pushing to charge you with wrongful use of a controlled substance and fleeing the scene of an accident. I don’t need to tell you what a 112A and a 134 would do to your career.”

“Look Keith, I don’t want to leave here right now.”

“Hannibal, the brass have got involved. We need to talk to them and I’ve arranged…..”

“Just a minute,” Hannibal interrupted him and Face heard footsteps approaching the bed, “Hey kid, how are you doing?”

Face opened his eyes to find Hannibal exactly where he knew he would be, standing right beside him, “I’m okay boss. You need to leave?”

“Yes he does.” Major Patterson checked his watch for the tenth time since his arrival.

“The brass want a meeting about what happened, the Major here has arranged it.” Face looked worried and Hannibal continued quickly, “it’s okay, you’ve already told them what happened, I just have to show my face.”

Patterson’s expression told Face that there was slightly more to it than that, but the Major was a good lawyer and Hannibal had just renewed his promise not to contradict what Face had told them. He was confident that the proposed charges would not go ahead but even so after Hannibal left, he lay awake bored and edgy until he finally turned to B.A.’s left behind car magazine in the hope that it would send him back to sleep.

______________________________

Breakfast was actually a late lunch and the little dinner just off base was winding down form the rush of military personnel who frequented it. Sitting in a back booth, Murdock watched as B.A. demolished his steak lunch with all the trimmings and extra sides.

“You could slow down a bit on that B.A. Take the time to appreciate it, You know chew occasionally seeing as I practically had to get a loan out to pay for it all.” Murdock was starting to regret his rash offer of buying and he slid the menu off the table hoping that dessert would not be mentioned.

“I appreciate anything that anit hospital food right now.” B.A. looked up at him in between mouthfuls, his eyes flicking to the menu that was being unsuccessfully hidden on the seat. “You need lessons from Face ‘cause you sure as hell anit got any natural talent for slight of hand Murdock.” B.A. fought to maintain his harsh look in the face of his friend’s caught expression, but then he remembered the game of cards earlier and then it was not a struggle at all.

Murdock’s eyes grew hard as he saw the change in B.A. and he sat forward lowering his voice even though the adjoining tables were now empty. “Someone’s been messing with our unit.”

“Someone’s gonna pay.” B.A. put his knife down and started stabbing fries with his fork

“Yeah,” Murdock agreed, “But who?”

B.A. looked up chewing thoughtfully on a fry and recoiled from the haunted look he saw on his friend’s face. It sent a shiver down his spine and suddenly the food he had so enjoyed sat heavily in his gut.

“If we’d have lost them B.A……”

“We didn’t. There’re both fine.”

“No they aren’t.”

“They will be.”

“The boss is struggling Bosco.”

“So is Face, but they’ll work it out man.” B.A. offered Murdock the fry from the end of his fork and watched as he took it and started munching on it slowly. It was no use speculating on the what ifs, he needed to be doing something, taking action and it was no good for Murdock either, “Okay so we check out everyone who was there and we start busting heads till we get to who did it or to someone who knows who did.”

Murdock looked thoughtful, “Too many people there and although a pleasant way to pass the time, it is a little messy and a bit to visible.” Snagging a couple of fries from the few remaining on B.A.’s plate, he absently started picking bits off one of them, “PCP, an hallucinogen, not your average G.I. Joe’s drug of choice for the weekend.” He started fluffing up the top of the fry, “Cocaine, Ecstasy, even Uppers yes, but PCP? Not gonna be too much demand for that round here.” Satisfied with his sculptured fry, Murdock reached out for the ketchup bottle and squirted a large blob on the table, “Boys…..” he said in his best imitation of the boss, looking up at B.A. as he made his two fries ‘walk’ over to the ketchup, “We have to go to the sauce.”

“The dealer.” B.A. nodded in understanding before he snatched one of the fries peering at it closely, “Is that supposed to be a Mohawk?” 

“Umm umm,” Murdock grabbed B.A.’s last onion ring holding it out of reach as the Corporal’s hand shot out to try and save it. He broke one side apart, bent the ends back and shaped it to resemble legs before placing it in the ketchup. “Only one main dealer on this base and that is Corporal Ray Ward.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Faceman. He knows what everyone’s into within five minutes of getting on a base.”

A slight exaggeration but in essence the truth and one that had put B.A. on edge when he had first seen it in action. But that was many years ago and before he realised it was part of what made Face so good at getting the team what they needed.

“Why did he tell you?”

“He didn’t, I guessed.” At B.A.’s confused look, Murdock patiently explained, “The game, you know where I try and guess who is the drug dealer, which senior officer is having affairs with who, which…..”

B.A. held his hand up, “Okay I get it,” he said forcefully, it was no wonder he tuned out when those two started yammering at each other. He glanced at the tattoo across the back of his knuckles as he clenched his fist bringing it down to rest against his other hand. This fool Ward was a means to an end and he would certainly need pity if he did not help them out. B.A. stood up his muscles tense and itching to move, “Let’s go talk to him,” his voice was as cold as his expression.

Murdock looked up at him, “While we’re talking violence Bosco, have you ever considered the benefits of using glue in construction instead of poor little defenceless nuts and bolts?”

B.A.’s tone and posture did not change as he stared back, “No.” The word was not only a negative answer but also a dismissal of the whole potential conversation. He was in no mood to listen to one of Murdock’s crazy ideas and for once the pilot did not push.

“Okay,” he stood as well sliding out from the booth, “I was just checking.”

 

An hour later and they were standing side by side on the sidewalk outside one of the base mess halls watching Ray Ward walk away from them. Ward was a chef in the catering corps and as he had stepped out of the building for a cigarette, Murdock had identified him with a nod and the statement that he was the onion ring. Ray Ward was being decidedly unhelpful and their conversation with him had been brief and to the point. They would get nothing from him, if he did deal drugs, which he had informed them with as much sincerity as a used car salesmen, he did not, he would absolutely not disclose his client’s information to anyone and they could very polity go to hell. Murdock standing bodily in front of B.A. was the only thing that stopped the big guy from having his hands around Ward’s throat. Not that Murdock had any objection on principle but they were standing in the middle of a busy army base and that kind of behaviour was unlikely to go unnoticed.

Both pairs of eyes were fixed on the retreating Corporal.

“He really did not want to talk to us did he?” Murdock said cheerfully, “He’s clever enough not to give us any information.”

“That ain’t clever man, that’s dumb.” B.A. stared coldly at the man’s back as he neared the entrance to the mess.

“To get him legit would take time and if we get him arrested we lose any hope of getting the information.”

“Yeah.” As their topic of conversation opened the side door to the kitchens and slipped inside without even glancing back at them, B.A. finally looked away and turned to Murdock beside him, “So we do it our way?”

Murdock turned his head to squint at B.A. from under his baseball cap, “Yes we do,” he agreed. 

___________________________________

Hannibal stood in an ease stance, his bearing deceptively relaxed as he watched Sergeant Brown animatedly make his case. General Marshall sat in stony silence behind the long desk in the briefing room, flanked by General Watson on one side and a Colonel who he was unfamiliar with on the other, but his name badge proclaimed him to be called Blackstone. None of them looked happy, all probably on the golf weekend and recalled to deal with the situation. No, none of them looked happy at all and after Major Patterson had done a fairly good job of countering the proposed charges, Hannibal almost felt a twinge of sympathy for Brown. His own drive to tell them the truth of what had happened and to face the consequences was still strong, but the words of his team kept echoing in his head especially Murdock’s. He had told Face that they would keep it in house and so he took Keith’s advice and although it did not feel entirely right, he let the Major do the talking for him.

When both parties had finished General Marshall gave a crisp nod and gathered up the papers in front of him before leaving to discuss the matter with the other two senior officers. As Patterson went to pour himself a coffee from the beverages set out along the far wall, Brown sidled over to him, glancing briefly behind to check on the Major, “I don’t know why Peck is lying for you, but I know that he did not tell the whole truth of what happened out there. If it was up to me Colonel….. Sir, I would throw the book at you.” The quiet words held no semblance of respect, the sir practically spat out.

Hannibal absorbed the words and the look of complete distain as the Sergeant moved away again, to wait stiff backed with hands clasped behind him. He was not completely stupid after all then. He realised he was fighting a losing battle, knew what the likely outcome of this meeting was just as Hannibal did. The Colonel’s expression stayed neutral but inwardly that almost twinge of sympathy for Brown became concrete as his words rubbed against the rawness of his guilt.

The senior officers filed back in and took their seats as Patterson returned to stand beside Hannibal. They had not even been out of the room for ten minutes adding to Hannibal’s opinion that all this was just for show, to prove that they took allegations of misconduct against higher ranking officers seriously.

General Marshal wasted no time on civilities going straight to the heart of the matter, “Lieutenant Peck has made no allegations against the Colonel, has in fact been very adamant that he would not and did not intentionally ingest the drug found in his system and that he tried to help him when he fell from the bridge. Colonel Smith is a dam fine officer with an exemplary record and he fully co-operated with you during your investigation. The charge you propose of wrongful use of a controlled substance requires just that, that the use is wrongful. You have supplied no proof that Colonel Smith deliberately took this substance and unless you have such proof you will not proceed. The evidence also falls short to charge with the second proposed charge of fleeing the scene of an accident. Lieutenant Peck’s account is that the Colonel did try to help him and he did get assistance to the scene albeit slightly later than one would have hoped.” The General looked up straight at Brown, “Do you have any reply to our decision Sergeant?”

“No Sir.”

Hannibal noticed Patterson’s satisfied smile as Brown saluted and left the room, but he could not share in his obvious pleasure at the outcome. The panel did not quite believe that he had not taken the drug of his own volition, not really, there was still an element of doubt, Hannibal could see it in the way they looked at him. But they were not going to throw him to the MPs, he knew that they would overlook a lot. He and his boys were extremely useful, but it was more than that. Even though he had never played in the game of army politics, never played golf with the right people or joined the right clubs, he had made more than a few friends in his time and his rank alone meant that he was one of them and therefore afforded their protection. They would not see a fellow senior officer up on charges unless it was a serious offence with enough proof or it benefited them directly. As the formal atmosphere dispelled and Patterson took his leave, a smiling General Marshall invited him through to his office. Hannibal smiled back as he accepted the invitation, but it did not reach his eyes or his heart. He needed to talk to the General, there were things that had to be sorted out. The team could not go on their scheduled tour and arrangements had been made to swap the duty rota. Details like what the team are going to do while Face recovered needed to be decided, there was always a possibility that they would want to bring in a replacement or enforce a temporary split, but they were possibilities that Hannibal would fight against.

______________________________

B.A. and Murdock had their prey in their sights. They stalked, they waited for the right opportunity, and they took. B.A. had him secured, a hood over his head and stunned by a blow before Ward even knew he was there. For such a well built man, he could move with the stealth of a hunting cat when he had to. He preferred a more direct approach but his years with Hannibal had taught him that that was not always the right tactic. Murdock pulled alongside in a non-descript van with the side door open and the job was done.

When Ward came to, he felt the restraints around his wrists securing him to a chair and the rough material of the hood covering his head. He opened his eyes to darkness and listened carefully, but all he could hear were crickets in the distance, the air was still and silent. He was sure he was alone and then the panic set in. He struggled against the bonds and started shouting, “Help. Someone help me.”

“He thinks someone’s going to help him.”

The amused voice slightly over to his left side made him jump and his head whipped around in that direction, his heart thumping in his chest. He had been so sure that he was alone.

“He’s wrong.”

He swung back to stare uselessly at the darkness in front of him as the hard cold voice responded to the other. Both voices were distinctive and a sliver of memory cut through his fear, a memory of just that afternoon. Suddenly the hood was yanked from his head leaving him blinking into the muted light from a portable lantern and the harsh stare of a man who had made no move to disguise who he was and that knowledge frightened him even more than when the hood had been in place. Ward flicked his eyes away from Baracus to see Murdock leaning casually against a pillar, with a small reporter style notebook open and ready in one hand. The other held a pencil which started randomly tapping against the paper as he grinned at him. The wide smile did nothing to reassure him, it was just as menacing as Baracus’s glare. As he brought his attention back to the large man in front of him, Ward took in his surroundings, noting the derelict, deserted building and his blood ran cold. 

Ward struggled anew against his restraints, noticing for the first time the softness around his wrists. There would be no visible marks despite his struggling and he swallowed trying to pull himself together. “Do you think this is impressing me? All these games?” he snarled clasping false bravado around him with an effort.

B.A. grabbed his chin and pushed his head back, staring with clear deadly eyes straight into wide frightened ones. He brought his gun up, pressing the cold barrel to the sweating forehead. Ward shifted his eyes upwards and he could not stop the tremor that ran through his body, his head still held immobile in B.A.’s strong grip.

“We ain’t playing with you fool. You tell us what we want to know or we kill you.” B.A. told him, his voice flat and calm.

Ward started to shake, his eyes darting down to B.A. and back up to the gun at his head, “You won’t get away this,” Ward stated, but the tremor in his voice took any conviction out of the words.

The incessant noise of the pencil drumming against paper faltered just slightly as Murdock cocked his head to one side, “We’re special forces dude, we spend our lives getting away with it. No one will find you. No one will even know you’re dead.” He pushed himself away from the pillar and strolled casually into Ward’s line of sight as his smile became softer. “But it’s not you we want. Not you who messed with our unit. Just give us the names and you walk out of here.”

B.A. noticed the change in Ward’s face, as the man saw his way out, “You have ten seconds to decide,” 

B.A.’s steady voice brought Ward’s attention swiftly back to the feel of the hard metal against his forehead and the cold, determined look on the Corporal’s face.

“Seven…..six…..”

“Dave Williams Private, Andrew Hill Lieutenant, …..”

The names came thick and fast, worryingly more than either man thought there would be, but Murdock scribbled each one down and B.A. finally lowered his weapon when they stopped coming.

They gave him a lift back towards the base and by the time they dropped him off near to the entrance to the on base housing, Ward had stopped shaking. He had even recovered enough composure to respond bewilderedly to Murdock’s questions regarding the mess hall’s ingredients for chilli.

For the second time they watched Ward walk away from them, only this time they were sitting in a van illuminated under street lights and the Corporal turned around to throw a look back at them as if checking they had remained in the vehicle. His pace quickened as Murdock gave him a friendly wave in response.

“Any idea what we were going to do if he hadn’t caved?” Murdock asked lowering his hand and looking back to his companion.

“I would have left him in there with you talking at him for an hour. That would have broken him.” B.A. started the van’s engine and pulled away.

Sinking back in his seat and propping his feet up on the dash board, Murdock looked out at the road ahead, “That’s very hurtful Bosco.”

_____________________________________  
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The next morning after visiting with Face, they left the Colonel with him and returned to the diner, Murdock insisting that they had their regular booth to a confused waitress who tried to seat them elsewhere.

“That one right there,” Murdock pointed at the table they had occupied for the first time the day before. “You must be new here, that’s okay,” he walked past her, “We’ll seat ourselves. But that there is the booth we always sit at.”

Shaking his head B.A. followed him over, “Can we get two coffees and two specials please, oh and a glass of milk?”

She looked him up and down disbelievingly, “Milk?”

“Yeah milk, there a problem with that?” B.A. scowled.

“No that’s alright honey,” she scribbled on her pad, “I’ll bring it over to your regular booth,” she shot sarcastically over her shoulder as she walked off.

With the debris of their breakfast shoved over to one side they held the list between them each grasping onto a corner and heads bowed in discussion as to how they proceeded. The discussion was escalating into bickering as each tried to wrestle the list away from the other when both men jumped as a tall figure slid into the booth beside Murdock and a large hand shot out and snatched the paper from their hands. “I knew you boys were getting up to mischief.” Hannibal rested his elbows on the table as he held the piece of paper watching both men questioningly.

“Oh hell,” B.A. looked guiltily down at the table.

“Do you have a stealth mode button?” Murdock suspiciously looked him up and down trying to work out how Hannibal had snuck up on them.

“And this is?” Hannibal questioned brandishing the paper.

Knowing they were caught Murdock reluctantly muttered, “A list of who brought pcp from the base dealer.”

“Am I going to have to field any trouble from this?” Hannibal’s eyes remained on his two men but his fingers tightened on the piece of paper. Both of them looked guilty and that raised questions has to how the list had been obtained.

Murdock turned serious, shaking his head, “No, Colonel.”

B.A. leaned closer to the two men sitting opposite him as he lowered his voice, “The little shit is dealing drugs Hannibal.”

“He won’t say anything,” Murdock finished just as quietly.

Hannibal nodded but his eyes remained on the two men as part of him did not want to look at the list, unsure if it would provide any answers and suddenly strangely uncertain whether he was ready to find them if it did. 

“None of them names mean anything to us boss…..” B.A.’s eyes flicked down to the paper.

Murdock bounced slightly in his seat, his eyes gleaming, “But one of them might to you.”

Finally Hannibal straightened out the paper in his hand and his eyes fell onto Murdock’s familiar scrawl. His breath caught and his eyes hardened as half way down one name screamed recognition in his mind. He remembered a conversation with Face, a warning, an instinct his lover had about a group of would be rangers. Hampton buying the drug, being at the party, Hannibal did not believe in coincidences and his simmering anger notched up that much closer to boiling point.

Now he had a target, but for the first time in years he gave no thought to formulating a plan. Despite years of control and hard learned lessons of staying detached, this time it was too close, too raw and he could not make his anger work for him, it refused to be stilled or harnessed.

He got up purposefully and strode towards the exit leaving B.A. and Murdock scrambling around to catch up with him. Halfway to the door, Murdock darted back and snatched his forgotten cap off the table.

“Hurry up fool,” B.A. ushered him, “What’s he seen?”

“I don’t know,” Murdock hurried through the door being held open for him and they both rushed out hot on the heels of the colonel.

Without being told they waited outside the admin block when Hannibal went in, but watched closely through the window as the colonel spoke with a base co-ordinator. Unsure what he was doing they exchanged puzzled looks when Hannibal was handed a clipboard which he rapidly scanned and neither man missed the hint of satisfaction in his expression as he handed it back.

As he came out Hannibal marched passed B.A. and Murdock without a second glance, his keen eyes seeking out what he needed and he abruptly changed direction when he saw it. He now knew where Hampton was supposed to be, he just needed a way to get there.

“What’s going on boss?” B.A. kept pace with him.

“Who was it?” Murdock asked his eyes scanning ahead as he searched for where they were headed.

But their questions went unanswered as Hannibal reached a jeep and placed his hand on the shoulder of the private about to get in.

“I’m taking the jeep son,” the authority in his voice was clear even if he had not been well known on base, but the soldier recognised him instantly.

“Yes sir,” the private immediately stepped aside snapping off a crisp salute despite the lack of insignia or name badge on the colonel’s combats and t-shirt.

Hannibal got in, gunned the engine and as B.A. and Murdock started to climb in the back, he barked an order over his shoulder, “Stay here, both of you.” He did not want them involved in this, for their own sake, but did not waste time when they both got in anyway instead he pulled sharply away.

It did not take long to get to the training ground and the assault course that Hannibal was headed for, but on the short drive he tried once again to rein in his anger knowing in the saner part of his mind that he needed to pull back. It worked to some extent as his too rapid heart rate slowed and he forced away the memory of seeing Face’s still form lying far below him and the feelings of panic and terror. 

As he climbed out of the jeep looking around for any sign of his prey he found B.A. and Murdock standing in front of him, their eyes locked on him in silent support. He focused on them and frustration surged through him at the reminder that it was not just himself that he had to consider here. That he was not free to act how his anger urged him to, that he had responsibilities to the men in front of him and the one he had left lying in a hospital bed.

“I ordered you both to stay back there,” Hannibal snapped.

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you Colonel, the jeep was too noisy,” Murdock explained innocently.

“Yeah that’s one loud engine,” B.A. agreed ignoring Murdock’s sideways glance even as he inwardly winced at how the lie sounded. 

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed slightly, accepting the lie as he recognised in their face’s how this whole thing had affect them as well and how it was because of them that he had the information he did anyway. “Maybe you should give it a tune up when we take it back,” he suggested dryly.

“So, we know who did it?” Murdock rocked slightly back and forth on his heels, “One of the names on the list?” His eyes darted around, “Who did it boss?”

“Hampton,” Hannibal ground out, knowing that they deserved an explanation, “Part of the next intake through ranger school, he’s on your list and was at the party.” He ran a hand over his short hair, saying the words out loud it made even less sense. He had hardly met the young soldier, had had no confrontations with him and Hannibal could think of no reason he would hold a grudge.

Hannibal’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of voices drifting over from the assault course as four men came into view. From their dirty state and the tired way they trudged around to the start of the course, it was obvious that they had just completed a circuit. The anger notched up again as the sound of Hampton laughing reached him and he watched as one young soldier he recognised as Medway and another whose name he did not know horsed around with Baines, pushing him and throwing water in his face.

Hannibal walked over stopping as Baines ran out in front of him wiping the water away and he found himself staring down into the same scared eyes he remembered from the party.

“Colonel Smith…..” at his surprised voice, the sound of laughter from the other three faded as they looked over and Hannibal did not miss the apprehensive looks exchanged between them.

Medway was the first to walk over slinging an arm around Baines shoulders, but the gesture was more threatening than camaraderie.

Hampton joined them but the other, Rodriguez, Hannibal noted from the name badge on his t-shirt hung back shifting around uneasily.

“Colonel,” Hampton acknowledged, “What can we do for you sir?”

“First off, you can tell me how you drugged me and why you did it.” Hannibal’s voice was low and dangerous as he watched the young soldier closely, noting his arrogant stance, the total lack of respect and more tellingly a glimmer of fear that was swiftly hidden. The certainty grew that this boy knew exactly what had happened.

“Sorry sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Smirking, this kid was actually smirking and any lingering doubt that Hannibal had, evaporated and he stepped in closer, “We know who you brought the pcp from kid, so make it easy on yourself here.” He was aware that the two men flanking him had stepped up alongside him and he knew that it was not for his own protection and he felt B.A’s warning hand on his arm. They were generating attention from the few soldiers in the area, a sergeant talking to a group of recruits kept looking over at them, but Hannibal stayed focused on the kid in front of him.

Hampton’s smirk turned into a laugh, “Oh colonel, I don’t know who told you that, but they’re lying. I don’t do drugs, I’ll take a test right now and I’ll be clear,” he shrugged, “I hear the same can’t be said for you though sir. Did you enjoy your little trip the other night?” he winked.

And that was when the anger tipped over to boiling point and Hannibal delivered a powerful punch which knocked Hampton off his feet. The young soldier lay on his back spitting blood from his mouth looking up at him laughing, “Wow that’s quite a punch colonel, now I know how Peck feels.”

Hannibal did not even hear B.A.’s warning call of his name or Murdock’s laughter and he was on Hampton before conscious thought kicked in.

B.A. grabbed onto Hannibal well aware of the danger to Hampton and the results of that for the colonel and he shouted at Murdock who seemed delighted at Hannibal’s actions, “Help me fool.” 

But Murdock was already moving, he may like seeing the life choked out of Hampton, but like B.A. it was not that scum that he was worried about. He saw the sergeant run across to them and he raised the hand that was not around the colonel’s bicep, “Stay back amigo, we got this.”

B.A. leaned down trying to prise the colonel’s hold from around Hampton’s neck, “Hannibal let go, we’ll get them but not like this. This is not the way, remember that’s what you taught me boss?”

Hannibal did not see a red mist, he felt white hot rage, but the pressure around his arms and B.A.’s voice gradually penetrated and he released his hold, standing back and breathing heavily, almost as heavily as Hampton as he lay sprawled on the ground gasping for breath.

There was a second of stillness and then Medway and Rodriguez moved forward helping a recovering Hampton to his feet.

“I think that’s what you call assault colonel,” Hampton sneered venomously, his voice rough as he rubbed at his bruised neck.

B.A. who had been watching Hannibal turned his head sharply back to Hampton, “What? You won’t even be in the army long enough to file any charges.”

“You think you can get us kicked out without any proof?” Hampton asked the smugness in his voice obvious.

“I’ll make sure of it,” Hannibal promised not missing the use of the word us as he looked them all over fighting with his desire to finish what B.A. and Murdock had stopped. But sanity had returned and with it the awareness of their audience.

“You want to be rangers?” Murdock angrily gestured with his arm to the group, “You’ve failed at the first hurdle, ‘never shall I fail my comrades,’ the first line of an oath that you will never get to swear. You have already failed everyone, yourselves, each other, the regiment and the best damn ranger unit in the army.”

Hannibal shifted his arm around, showing the tattoo that represented so much, “This symbolises a brotherhood, a unity of strength and honour, none of you have either one.” He turned and walked back to the jeep, followed by B.A. and Murdock and ignoring the stares of the stunned soldiers nearby.

“You can’t prove anything,” Hampton called after them grasping onto that fact as if it was the only thing that mattered. 

Hannibal was silent as he let B.A. drive them back. Striking out had given him a moment of intense satisfaction and released of some of the emotions that he had bottled up, but it did not help now. In fact it had made the whole situation worse. How many times had he chewed Face out for doing exactly what he had just done? How many times had he pulled his xo’s ass out of the fire because he had gone off half-cocked letting his emotions dictate his actions? And now that Face was finally steadier, more inclined to think before he acted, it was Hannibal who had let his emotions block out good solid planning. Instead of using his head and bringing Hampton down, he had, in front of witnesses, given him perfect ammunition to use against him. He didn’t recognise himself right now, he had never felt such confusion or been so out of control and he hated it.

________________________

 

Baines stood across the from the bland box shaped concrete building that was the military police station his gaze fixed on the entrance as people jostled passed him, hurrying to get to the nearby mess hall. He gathered a few puzzled glances as he stood, still wearing his grubby, sweat soaked PT shorts and t-shirt. He had run, as soon as he had the chance he had run. The others thought he was getting more water, but he had not stopped until he had reached this place, but now that he was here, his courage flattered and he stood arms clasped around his body just staring.

After the colonel had left, Hampton had played up to the sergeant who had watched the whole encounter, before turning away and gleefully telling them that things could not have gone better. Roddi was still jittery but Medway had smiled in understanding, Smith was the one with a failed blood test and now Hampton could lay an assault charge on him, it was unlikely any accusations regarding drug deals would stick.

The others had look relieved and smug, Baines just felt sick with the sense of failure that Smith’s man had spoken of. He wanted the brotherhood that the colonel so obviously believed in, yearned for it, that sense of belonging and he would never get it now. No matter what he did or did not do, that was lost to him. He had not possessed the strength to stand up when it mattered, clinging onto a dream of a life that was not even real, his father’s approval, the family that maybe he could have found in the army.

It was the shame he had felt when Smith and his team had walked away that gave him the strength now to start walking across to the station. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath before pulling the door open and walking in.

______________________

B.A. drove them back to the house without asking, they all needed time away from the base, time to think and when no objections came forth he knew he had done the right thing. As soon as they got back, Hannibal had disappeared out the back of the house for a cigar while Murdock pottered around in the kitchen making them a light lunch. He was hindered by B.A. who restlessly followed him around helping out.

The food was ready when Hannibal came back inside and they all sat in silence picking at the noodles with a notable lack of enthusiasm.

“We gonna tell Face?” B.A. eventually asked, pushing his still half full plate away.

“Of course,” Murdock stated, but he looked over at Hannibal for confirmation and received an affirmative nod.

B.A. looked over to the colonel as well, “Just thought maybe we should wait up till we know more.”

Hannibal ran his hands over his face, “I haven’t got any answers as to why but we know who,” he leaned back in his chair, sighing heavily, “I don’t know, maybe the kid can think of a reason why he did it.” He did not know all the scams his xo ran, it was possible he had crossed Hampton somehow and this was some kind of payback, but somehow that did not feel right either. He thought back over that mornings encounter and another course of action, one that should have occurred to him on first seeing that list, came to mind. “If not, we talk to Baines. That kid’s scared of his own shadow and eager to please, if he knows anything, we’ll be able to get it out of him.” 

As they headed out the door to go back to the hospital, Hannibal’s phone rang with the call he had been expecting, knowing that trouble was going to hit from his earlier outburst. He thought briefly about not answering but he would rather know now than be picked up by the MPs on base. If Hampton had reported his behaviour as an assault he would need to deal with it and head on was best. If he could delay going in he would have a chance of speaking to Face and Baines first to try and figure out what had happened.

He walked away slightly from his boys as he answered, “Hello Keith…..”

“So the scum has reported him,” B.A. forcefully threw the bag packed for Face into the back of the jeep on hearing Hannibal say the lawyer’s name.

“He had to,” Murdock protectively held onto the food he had prepared to take into the hospital as B.A. looked around for something else to throw, “He has to protect himself and that’s the best way to do it.”

However when Hannibal came back over his expression was unreadable and they watched him waiting to hear how much trouble was coming their way.

“It was a prank,” Hannibal told them, not quite believing that all they had gone through was down to something as inane as that, “A fucking practical joke. Baines has gone in and told Brown everything and they’re picking up the others now.” He climbed into the jeep needing to see Face and let him know, to at least try and give him some reason for what had happened. “Come on, I’ll fill you in on the way.”

_______________________

Face had taken the news in with disbelief which had grown into a sullen quietness that B.A. and Murdock were trying their best to draw him out of whilst Hannibal was out calling Keith for an update.

“I tell you Face, the next time he puts salt in my tool kit is the last time he does anything…..” B.A. paced the room shooting dirty looks across to Murdock standing by the bed. He may have started this conversation to distract his friend, but it still rankled when he thought of finding his kit like that.

“I did not put salt in your box B.A.,” Murdock defended himself against the unfair accusation.”

“Yeah you did.”

“No I did not. You did that when you swept those poor little suckers off the table back into that cold dark prison,” Murdock turned to Face, “He got them all mixed up just when they were getting straight you know. Each bolt knew which room they belonged in, even the unhappy were happy that they knew they belonged in the unhappy room.”

Face kept starting at the door that Hannibal had disappeared through before, “That’s too bad buddy,” he responded distractedly and Murdock knew he wasn’t really listening. He exchanged a concerned look with B.A. and silently they agreed to change tack. But before they could launch into something else the door opened and Hannibal returned.

Hannibal took in the unusual quietness of the room as he walked over to the window and looked out. There was no real view, only drab concrete walls but he still stared out the window as he told them the full story that was coming through now that the whole group had been brought in for questioning. 

As he finished he turned back into the room, “They’re all facing court marshals and dishonourable discharges and they’re all spilling their guts, blaming each other, the only one accepting responsibility is the one who only knew after the fact.” 

“Baines?” Face questioned softly.

“Yeah,” Hannibal confirmed finally looking over to him and feeling the kick in his chest which hit him every time he looked at his lover now. Not the familiar and welcome buzz which he still got when he saw him, but a new jolt of guilt that had lessened with the knowledge of what had happened, but not disappeared completely.

“They should cut him some slack,” Face said softly as three pairs of eyes looked at him incredulously, “He didn’t actually do anything did he?” 

“He could have warned us kid or come forward before now,” Hannibal spoke and B.A. and Murdock nodded in agreement.

“It had already been done by then,” Face tried to explain feelings that he was still trying to come to grips with himself. The one thing he did know was that he did not have the energy to be mad at everyone, not anymore. 

“You think he should stay in ranger school?” Hannibal asked almost accusingly.

“No of course not,” Face bit at his lower lip and looked up at Hannibal, “But it’s not easy to do the right thing when you’re on your own.” Their eyes locked and shared memories passed between them.

“You did,” Hannibal muttered.

“It’s not easy,” Face repeated.

“So bossman, you’re in the clear?” Murdock asked as he rummaged around in the food bag he had brought in.

“Totally,” Hannibal leaned back against the wall, it had mattered, that the doubt over his involuntarily taking of the drug that he had seen in the general previously, was absent in his voice when they spoke on the phone. They actually believed him now, no longer any niggling uncertainty clouding his reputation.

“I bet Brown wasn’t happy,” B.A. grinned, liking that thought a lot.

No by all accounts he was not happy, but Hannibal did not hold a grudge, the evidence had been against him and drug or no drug, what happened on that bridge had been done by his hand. So the only satisfaction he gained from the sergeant’s disappointment stemmed from the man’s obvious enjoyment at preventing him going straight to the hospital that morning.

Murdock laid out a plate of food on the bedside table and Face inwardly groaned. Face really did not mind eating hospital food, in fact he quite liked it, at least he knew it was unlikely to contain anti-freeze or poison ivy, but Murdock always insisted on bringing in ‘proper food’ and so the sooner he got out of the hospital the better. Face looked up at his friend’s enthusiastic expression, “Did you hold the secret hold sauce?” he asked hopefully.

____________________________

Hannibal sat silently on the stairs watching Face sitting on the couch in the living room his crutches haphazardly thrown on the floor and thought back over the past week which ranked as one of the worst in his life. There had been lots of little indications that all was not as it should be between them, lots of cracks in the pretence of normality that they had clung to. But as he sat and watched his lover restlessly flicking through TV channels it was the great big glaring moments that came to mind, the ones they had both been blatantly ignoring, stumbling on as if nothing had changed between them….. 

….. That first night back at the house lying side by side in their bed not touching, Face on his back, the only position allowed to him by the cast on his leg and Hannibal had the uncomfortable feeling that his lover was glad of the restrictions it placed on him. Usually they would be close, there would be some contact, heads on chests, arms slung across torsos, at the very least a leg draped over the others. Lying like that felt wrong, but when Face reached his hand across and placed it on Hannibal’s arm it did nothing to change the forced feeling between them. When dozing off Hannibal had inadvertently thrown his arm over his lover in a completely unthinking natural gesture and the jolt he had felt shoot through Face in response had left him wide awake long into the night.

The next night was worse, waking in the early hours to the quickened harsh breathing and low moans of Face’s nightmare. He had felt the faint tremors of his body through the mattress and wanted so much to reach out and sooth with a touch as he had times before. But he had been too scared to and so had turned on the bedside lamp instead trying to wake him by light. It had worked as Face had jerked out of his dream, pushing himself up from the bed and resting back on his elbows. At the look of despair in the searching blue eyes Hannibal’s reluctance had crumbled and he had scooted across and wrapped an arm around him whispering that everything was ok, that he was fine. And he got exactly the reaction he had feared as Face pulled away from him and Hannibal knew without question who had the starring role in Face’s dream. Their eyes had locked in the soft glow of the lamp and Hannibal pulled away moving to get out of the bed. Face had reached out holding onto his hand and stopped him, pulling him back down beside him and whispering apologises and pleas not to leave. Hannibal had stayed in the bed and Face had pulled him into his side an arm around him closing the distance of the night before. Both of them felt the tension but neither of them was prepared to give voice to it.

The daytime was not much better, an unnatural quietness had fallen over a house that would normally be full of noise. Bickering, full on arguments, laughter, strange howling, just general talking, even singing were all natural and right, the low voices and muted everyday sounds were not.

When Face stumbled stubbornly moving off the bed without using his crutches Hannibal was there with lightening quick reflexes reaching out to stop him falling. But Face pulled away falling against the dressing table to hold himself up rather than take his hand. As Hannibal walked away Face’s pained one word plea of ‘Hannibal’ did not stop him walking out of the door without a backward glance.

Last night had been the final straw, their one disastrous attempt at sex and that is the only thing that you could call it, not even remotely could it be called making love. Face lying on his back, stroking himself and looking up at Hannibal entreatingly and Hannibal had understood, they had never had any problem communicating this way before and he had replaced his lover’s hand with his own. As Face reached out for him, Hannibal had slide over beside him, leaning in to look down into beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that swiftly closed not in passion, but as if to blank out the sight above him and instead of getting harder the firm flesh under his hand softened and Hannibal pulled away. Temp had blamed the meds he was on but Hannibal had challenged him on it, finally after a week of denial he had tried to face things head on. His lover had turned it back onto him telling him he was holding back and he felt as though he was being touched by a stranger. Even through the harsh words it had been good to see a flare of anger from Face and a brief spark flew between them until Face banked it back down, apologising and the status quo of forced normality was restored once again.

…..Hannibal sighed deeply and was grateful for the noise of the TV which prevented Face from hearing, he needed a few more moments before he did what he knew he had to. The whole balance of the team had been affected by what had happened that night and the continuing undertone of strain between himself and Face. And for once Hannibal had no idea how to fix things. His own emotions were tightly wound up in a way he had never experienced before and being with Face was not helping. He saw the person he loved with all his heart, lying to them both every day, hurting, but doggedly pretending everything was fine and he was enabling the lie. He was not able to see a way forward and was so scared of trying in case he pushed Face into saying things that he felt would shatter him. He was not used to feeling how he was or not being able to think straight and he did not want to feel like that anymore. How was he supposed to get Face and the team back together when he could not even help himself? So he had come to a decision that was best for everyone, now all he had to do was tell Face.

Face flicked yet again onto another channel, searching for anything that would catch his interest and stop the thoughts going round in his head. He hated himself for how he had reacted last night, but as Hannibal had lent over him whispering words of love, his mind had flashed back to another image. Not the hesitant, but loving face above him then but the one distorted by hatred and malice that had looked down on him before. The one that had haunted his dreams all week and left him feeling the same panic and fear that had griped him when he had realised he was going to fall. The hate he felt for himself when Hannibal had pulled away was equalled by the fear that he was losing the most important thing in his life.

He had to make things right, he knew he did not blame Hannibal for what had happened, but could not stop himself reacting to the memories and he resolved to find a solution. Because the panic he felt at losing what they had made him realise that they had to talk, he could not keep avoiding what was happening in the hope that it would just work out.

When he heard Hannibal walking around behind him he placed his arm along the back of the couch and looked round at him, determined to start things moving now, before he lost his nerve, “Hannibal,” he started but his lover jumped in before he could say anymore.

“Hey kid,” his voice was too bright, too cheerful as he walked over and picked up the crutches strewn on the floor. “Come on, we’re going out for a bit.”

Face shook his head, “Hannibal, listen I…..” he tried again only to find a pair of crutches held out to him and he automatically took hold of them.

“Come on,” Hannibal repeated, “You’ve been cooped up in here too long, let’s take a drive.” He did not wait for a reply before he turned and moved to the door.

Closing his eyes briefly Face exhaled softly, “Fine, okay,” he pushed himself up and hobbled after his colonel.

______________________

The drive had been filled with mindless chatter, Hannibal in his false too cheerful voice talking endlessly about pointless things and Face realised that his lover was nervous. An emotion not often seen but one instantly recognisable to Face and his own nerves frayed even more at the thought.

He was surprised at their destination as Hannibal pulled into the car lot and switched the engine off, getting out immediately rather than risk the silence in the car. The large man-made lake with its concrete path around and booths selling ice creams and coffees was popular with the local military families and today was no exception. Face looked through the windshield at the children and adults, automatically analysing everything, second nature for him to look for anything out of place. He noted which were nannies or moms and dads, figured out who was army or civilian and even spotted a likely cannabis deal going down with some college kids sitting on the grass.

His attention was brought back to Hannibal who opened the door and stood watching him before handing him his crutches, “Come on kid lets grab a coffee, we need to talk.”

Face nodded feeling relieved that Hannibal obviously knew just as he did, that they could not keep going as they were and it made sense, it really did to talk somewhere neutral like this. So he smiled and hauled himself out of the car.

They sat on a bench looking out over the water, just far enough away from the kiosks and picnic tables to be private but still with people strolling passed every so often, couples, people with kids or dogs, the place never seemed to be still.

They looked at each other, the coffees that the colonel had insisted on buying lying untouched on the seat beside them. Face took a deep breath just as Hannibal cleared his throat and they both jumped in, speaking at the same time.

“John, about last night, I’m sorry I…..”

“I think it’s a good idea if we spend some time apart…..”

They both trailed off into silence and Face felt like a hand had suddenly clenched inside his stomach, “What?” He had not seen this coming, not at all. 

“We need a little space kid, give things time to settle. I’ve been speaking to an old friend of mine Russell Morrison. He’s a general, you’ve met him several times…..”

“I know, I had a concussion not brain damage,” Face snapped as Hannibal’s words started to sink in.

“Russ has just taken a temporary command up in Washington, establishing a brand new structure where he’s in direct command of a group of specialist units and he could use my help setting things up. I think I should take the secondment for a while. You and the boys will stay here on downtime and training till you’re healed.”

Face sat in stunned silence for a few seconds looking around him with new eyes and it all became clear. Hannibal had not chosen this setting so that they could discuss their problems away from the base or the house, at a neutral place. Somewhere that they could talk more freely, outside all the complexities of their roles. As lovers, as army officers, as commander and second. No Hannibal was using this place as an escape route, it was public, very public with plenty of military personnel milling about and he was counting on Face not being able to create a scene here.

The fist in his stomach tightened its grip, “No, you’re not doing this,” Face turned back to him, gripping his hands on the seat to stop himself from reaching over and taking hold of his lover.

 

“It’s not for long, just enough to give us both some distance, a chance to get some perspective……” Hannibal trailed off as he saw the flash of anger in Face’s eyes.

“We don’t need distance,” Face asserted, “We need to talk about what’s going on.”

“We’ve said all there is to say Temp and we both know what’s going on.”

“Do we?” Face whispered harshly, “Well thank you for clearing that up, guess there’s no need to talk about anything after all is there?” His voice had risen so much by the end that they attracted a few curious stares and Face hung his head down staring at the ground, “All I know is that I don’t want you to go,” he mumbled, hating how pathetic that sounded but needing to say it.

Hannibal stared at the down turned head itching to reach out and tilt his head up so that he could see his eyes, but through his own choice of location he had to wait him out until eventually stormy blue eyes looked up to meet him. 

“Do you still trust me?” Hannibal asked him intently.

The hesitation was for a mere second, but it was endless to Hannibal.

“Yes.”

Leaning forward Hannibal said warningly, “Face.”

“I do trust you. You know I do,”

“With your head, yes. With your heart and with your instincts?” Hannibal did not miss the quick flick of Face’s eyes as he glanced away or the tongue that ran nervously over his lower lip, “No, I didn’t think so,” he finished.

“I do trust you,” he repeated, “It will just take some time that’s all, we need to…..” Face stopped as he saw his lover’s expression shift, he had seen that look on Hannibal before, there was nothing at all to discuss here he suddenly realised, because Hannibal had already made his decision and nothing Face could say was going to change his mind. “You’ve already decided this,” it was not a question.

“My bags are in the trunk I leave on the 16:00 hundred flight and I’ve arranged for B.A. to pick you up from here.” Hannibal confirmed. “It’s for the best Temp."

Right then Face hated him and the anger was almost enough to let rip and screw everyone around them, but he contained it, his words coming out in a harsh whisper, “So you’re walking out on me, just like every other fucker has.”

Hannibal felt the words like a punch, “It’s not forever kid, only four months and I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Are you coming back or was it all lies?”

Hannibal knew all the layers of meaning behind that sentence, the promises he had made, the ones that he had made Face believe in. Love, the forever kind and a loyalty just as strong and as permanent and now he was leaving and the look in his partner’s eyes was like a stab through his heart, but he could not change his mind. Not now, when just being with Face and having to watch him pull away from him brought everything back, how he felt scared to even touch him. He had to leave, why couldn’t Face see that?

“Don’t be ridiculous. I am coming back Temp,” he reaffirmed, “It’s because I love you so much that I’m leaving right now. We need this time apart to…..” Hannibal stopped as he registered the look on his lover’s face, the way the colour drained from him and he knew that his words had somehow scored a direct hit.

“Well, there’s nothing else to say is there?” Face grabbed his crutches and struggled to his feet, wincing as pushing up pulled at the wound on his stomach, “I’d best not keep B.A. waiting,” and he made his way slowly hobbling back towards the parking lot without looking back.

“Temp…..” Hannibal called after him, his heart aching more with each step Face took away from him. A couple walking their dog looked over, but Face did not look back and Hannibal sat and watched him till he reach the parking lot and saw B.A. with perfect timing pull in and pick him up.

_________________________

Face completed his fourteenth lap of the track, sweat dripped off his forehead adding to the dark patches on his khaki t-shirt and he could feel his leg starting to cramp along with the sharp pain every time his foot impacted with the ground. Even so he gritted his teeth and prepared to push on for another circuit until he felt a firm grip on his arm pulling him back. 

“What you doing fool? You wanna cause more damage?” B.A. slowed to a stop with him and tugged him over to the seats at the side of the track.

“I can do another lap Bosco,”

“You’ve already done four more than the docs said you could.”

“They don’t know anything,” Face dismissed, he knew his own body and if he’d listened to the doctors, he’d still be using a crutch right now.

Murdock joined them, jogging on the spot, “They don’t,” he agreed, “But we do Face, your leg is seizing up. By the end there you were running like a gruffalo.” At the two questioning glances Murdock sighed, “You know, heavy, laboured, monstrous.”

He knew they were right, but it did not stop the frustration at his current limitations or quell the desire to run further, “Okay,” he conceded lifting his foot onto a seat and starting some cool down stretches, “But please don’t let me stop you two, you’ve got another ten or so to do yet, right?” 

With twin groans they moved away and started running around again and Face could not help but smile as he watched them. Usually they all preferred to run off track, woods, beach, fields, dirt roads, anywhere but an athletics track. What was the point in getting used to running in perfect conditions? Made it all the harder to run in combat situations, over ground that was usually rough and dangerous. But they’d both been coming down here with him and without saying anything they had fit in with his needs to get his leg back up to strength. It could be that they just did not trust him not to push too far, but he knew it was more than that and as his smile faded the warmth he felt at his friends silent support did not. They had both stuck with him, over the last months, holding him back when he tried to do too much too soon and giving him a much needed kick up the ass on occasion when required. On those days when getting out of bed seemed like too much effort let alone sticking to a strict physical therapy routine. 

He snagged his towel from his open sports bag and wiped the sweat off his face as he sat and watched them, there was a pushing match going on between them now after Murdock had tested B.A.’s patience to the limit by dodging in front of him once too often and Face laughed shaking his head. They expended more energy messing with each other than they ever did running and Hannibal always separated them on an obstacle course saying they’d never finish if he let them run it together.

And at that thought his laughter died and he knew the reason he had been pushing himself harder today. Hannibal had phoned the new house last night, they’d move to one nearer to the town, Face had scammed it from a major who was going out on assignment for six months, it had a pool to help get his leg up to strength, a sauna, was closer to the base and other facilities and it meant he did not have to cross that damn bridge every time he went home.

Face threw his towel into the bag as he remembered his stilted conversation with the colonel last night. Like all the conversations they had had since he had left, it had been brief and slightly awkward, but Hannibal had told him that he was missing him and was trying to wrap things up in Washington early. News that should have been welcome, but had in fact made him edgy. To say that he had missed Hannibal was an understatement, but still there was a sense of trepidation at the thought of seeing him again. 

“What ya doing Faceman,” Murdock flopped down beside him, slightly breathless.

It made him jump, but he covered well, “I’m fighting Mike Tyson Murdock. What does it look like I’m doing?”

Murdock looked him up and down considering, “Yeahhhh, I’m not sure you could take him, but it looked to me more like you were thinking and that could be just as dangerous.”

“You could be right buddy,” Face couldn’t argue with that sentiment right now.

“So you worried about Hannibal coming home?”

“No.”

“He knew what he was seeing was real, he didn’t know what he was doing Face.” 

Murdock often just jumped straight in with both feet and Face tried to brush him off, not really wanting to talk about it at all, but especially not sober and so out in the open. “I know that Murdock.”

“No you don’t,” Murdock looked up at him with his deep eyes that saw so much and had always had an uncanny knack for seeing right through any of his bullshit. “You can’t understand, not really, you haven’t experienced it Face. But I’m telling you for sure, he had no idea it was you out there. I know you didn’t part well Face, so I thought you should know, it would have been so real to him,” and leaving that with him, he went back to the track.

His mind wandered back to that day by the lake three months ago and lost in thought, he hung his head down. It was not that Hannibal had promised that he would never leave him, no, the problem had been that Face had believed him. For the first time since he had given up believing in anyone’s word after the second set of foster parents had sent him back into the system instead of the promised adoption. They had loved him too, they said that was why he had to go back, they couldn’t cope with his anger, and they loved him enough to throw him back into the system to see if he could find someone who could. And now Hannibal loved him enough to leave him, so he’d thought bitterly wasn’t he just so lucky that he was loved so much. He had been so mad at Hannibal he had had to walk away, he had been way too close to providing the scene that Hannibal had carefully planned against to stay sitting next to him.

Later when the intensity of the anger had lessened he realised that he could not entirely blame Hannibal, it was him. He was the one who flinched every time his lover touched him. Although he still harboured a deep resentment that Hannibal had just gone without even trying to talk, he understood more why he had. After all Hannibal had not really betrayed him, because when it came right down to it, it was his own fault. Hannibal was right, the whole problem was that on that basic instinctive level the absolute trust that Face had felt was gone. Because he did not understand, no matter how much he tried because Murdock was right as well, there was no way he did really comprehend how his lover had not known it was him. There had to be a way to put that right, there just had to be.

______________________

Hannibal sat at his desk and reached out for the piece of paper being held out to him by Lieutenant Smith, Russ’s sense of humour coming to the fore when he had assigned this kid as his aide. He smiled his thanks doing his best to ignore the perfect military at ease stance his namesake had adopted. He was a stickler for protocol and formality, all yes sirs and textbook army behaviour, he had not put a foot wrong and Hannibal hated it.

But the paper in his hand was what mattered, it was his ticket home, the final piece of work signed off and there was nothing holding him here now except his own apprehension. He dismissed the lieutenant and took out his wallet, pulling the smudged tatty photo from its resting place tucked right in the back. Him and the boys sitting on a pile of sand that only they knew was a captured bunker in the middle of a desert. Murdock just turned back to the camera in time from his dash to set the timer knocking into a scowling B.A. He was beside the corporal, smiling, one arm slung over B.A.’s shoulders, the other around Face’s on the other side of him, also smiling and managing to look impeccable despite the gruelling few days they had been through.

Hannibal stared at the photo, the image that meant home and he’d missed it with a constant ache inside. He needed to be with his team and with his lover, his own enforced separation had not worked and he had come to realise the truth of that. The only contact that Face had initiated in their time apart had been one solitary text a few short hours after they had parted. ‘Watch your back, you prick’. Face had been mad and worried. His reply, meant to reassure, that he was going to be sat behind a desk not out behind enemy lines had gone unanswered. They had spoken over the phone since, but it was always him that had called Face and the conversations were strained.

He put the photo back in its allotted place and pushed away from the desk. It was time to go home.

_____________________

Hannibal barely recognised the four wheeled truck that pulled up in front of the arrivals terminal, the last time he had seen it, the now gleaming metallic silver vehicle had hardly been more than an old shell. He took one last pull on his cigar before he chucked his bag into the back and got into the truck, one thing about flying in old army cargo planes, no one ever dared tell him that he could not smoke. The budget airline he had just flown with was not as comfortable either and had seemed to take a perverse pleasure in putting him in the most cramped seat on the whole plane. If Face was with him they would have been seated in the door seats with loads of leg room and probably been given a deluxe menu too.

“B.A. it’s good to see you,” looking at his friend a genuine warm smile played across his lips as he watched B.A. crouching down and looking nervously up through the windshield at the low flying plane that roared over the truck on its way to land.

B.A. hastily threw the truck in gear and pulled away relaxing slightly with each metre they travelled away from the airport, “Good to see you too boss,” he finally answered but maintaining his firm grip on the steering wheel and a cautious eye on Hannibal he did not respond to the offered fist bump.

Hannibal could not blame him, they had tricked him more than once too often for him not to be on full alert around any of them and airplanes. They had been known to use the ‘just pick me up from my flight’ routine before and B.A. did not forget.

Hannibal patted the dash board in front of him, “You’ve been busy here B.A. nice job.”

“Thanks Boss,” B.A. finally relaxed, a quick smile flashing across his face, “Beats me why people want to scrap perfectly good vehicles. All it needed was a bit of care and attention. 

“You gonna keep this one?” Ever since Mexico B.A. had never kept a vehicle long, he did them up and sold them on or even on occasion gave them away.

“Nah man, this one’s just passing through.” 

“So,” Hannibal leaned back casually in his seat, “Where’s Murdock and Face?”

The nonchalant way Face’s name was thrown in on the end did not fool B.A. for a second, “Said he had a physio appointment,” he answered the real question being asked explaining why the lieutenant was not with him.

Hannibal nodded, he would not push B.A. as to whether the appointment actually existed. Would not put him in that position, not when it did not really make any difference. Hannibal already knew the answer, if Face had wanted to pick him up from the airport, he would have. 

____________________

Hannibal stepped out of the shower and reached for his towel, as he brought it down from drying his face, he caught his reflexion in the mirror and bent his head down, bracing his hands on the basin unit. 

His mind wandered back to his reunion with Face two days ago after B.A. had dropped him off at the house. It had filled Hannibal with equal parts hope and anguish, along with a determination that he would make things right between them. When Hannibal had walked into the boys recently acquired house, for the first time in a long while he had been totally unsure of how Templeton Peck would react to him. He expected maybe awkwardness, angry silence or a heated argument. What he had not predicted was his lover just reaching out and pulling him into an embrace, burying his head in his neck and holding on tightly. His own arms had eagerly snaked around the muscled back tightening the hold and pulling them even closer together as he bent his head to rub his cheek over the soft hair. He had breathed in deeply treasuring the intoxicating scent that was Face, the unique aroma that always made his heart skip a beat.

“You came back.”

The words had been whispered so low he doubted that they had meant to be heard, but he had caught them and closed his eyes at the pain he heard in them. “Of course I did I kept telling you I would.” He released his hold slightly trying to get Face to raise his head and look at him, “Listen baby…..”

Before he had gotten any further he had been silenced with a kiss that nearly broke his heart. Because instead of intimate warmth, heat, passion and closeness he felt a coolness in the kiss, a reserve that told him more than anything else could, how the distance he had put between them was not lessened by his returning.

That one heartfelt embrace had had to sustain him in the days that followed as Face had pulled back with a hurried excuse of having to leave to pick Murdock up, but the retreat had not only been physical. Face was avoiding him there was no doubt about that and Hannibal had allowed it, staying in quarters on base rather than moving into the house in the hope that Face would come to him when he was ready. Pushing Face before that point risked a battle neither of them would have walked away from unscathed.

But that was not the only reason he had not pushed and he lifted his head staring into the mirror and wondered when he had become such a coward. Fear was no stranger in his life, but it had never been a constant either. No one could do the job he did without a certain amount of detachment and the times he had been afraid he had used it to his advantage and pushed through it. But now fear seemed to live with him, fear of Face never being able to trust him, of losing him, of hurting him again, fear that they would never get back to what they had. He was scared of pushing because he could not face what the outcome could be.

But things could not stay this way forever and it was up to him to start repairing some of the damage and he turned from the mirror and went to get dressed. This evening was the first step in getting things moving in the right direction. Dinner, the four of them as a team going out and relaxing, having a little fun and hopefully closing some of the distance between himself and Face in the process.

_______________

Face stood in the living room and watched through the window as B.A. and Murdock walked down the drive to meet Hannibal. His heart flipped as he caught sight of his lover as he walked up and stood between the other two and he could almost hear their brief conversation in his mind. Hannibal looked good, wearing smart casual pants and shirt, but he had to step back quickly when the silver head turned and looked up towards the house. He held his breath when he looked again, releasing it only when he saw all three men were walking away towards the town. 

Having Hannibal so close but hardly seeing him was difficult and the thought that he may leave again and this time not return was unbearable. He could not let that happen, but he couldn’t control his reactions or stop his traitorous thoughts clouding his actions either. He slipped a hand into his jeans pocket and his fingers curled around the plastic bag that was his solution. His heart rate jumped up a notch as he thought about what he was doing but he swallowed down his fear. Turning from the window he walked to his room determined to go through with the only option he could see.

_____________

 

As Hannibal walked up to the house, he was met by B.A. and Murdock at the bottom of the drive. “Where’s Face?” he looked passed them.

“He ain’t coming Hannibal, says he’s ill,” B.A. looked down and shuffled his feet.

Hannibal looked up at the house and took one step toward it, “Is he alright?” A hand on his arm stopped him and he looked down into Murdock’s apologetic expression. Of course Face was alright. There was nothing wrong with him, he just did not want to come and he nearly marched back to the house to drag him out with them, but there was that fear again. What if that was when Face said the words that haunted him? ‘It’s over’, ‘I’m leaving’, so he turned and started walking the short distance into town flanked by B.A. and Murdock.

As they began walking Hannibal was aware that the two men either side of him were surreptitiously communicating with each other across the front of him, “If you’ve got something to say you two, just spit it out.” Subtlety was not high on either of their undoubtedly long list of attributes. 

With another glance at each other and at B.A.’s nod of encouragement, Murdock bit the bullet half hoping that their news would at least get a reaction out of the boss, rather than the uncharacteristic acceptance that he had adopted since his return. “We bumped into that drug dealer today boss and he took great delight in telling us that there’s a ranger using pcp.”

“A ranger bought pcp?” Hannibal slowed his pace.

“He could just have been stirring boss.” B.A. mused.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Murdock recalled the way Ward had looked at them with contempt at what he called their holier than thou attitude when one of their own was using. He was convinced he was telling the truth.

“Did he say who?” Hannibal stopped abruptly leaving the other two men taking a few steps before realising and turning back to him.

“Nah,” Murdock stepped back in front of Hannibal, “He just wanted to rub our noses in it. Must be recent though, so I guess there’s not many it could be, not on this base right now…..”

Hannibal looked thoughtfully back along the short distance they had travelled, back to the house before a look of comprehension crossed his face. “The bloody idiot,” he spat as he took off at a sprint back to the house. 

B.A. and Murdock looked at each other, momentarily stunned, “Man, he wouldn’t.” but B.A. had started to run after Hannibal even as he voiced his denial, closely followed by Murdock.

Hannibal used the key B.A. had given him two days ago and was inside the house within minutes, heading straight for Face’s room and finding the door locked he banged on the wood sharply, “Face…..” he shouted, his heart racing.

“Just a minute.” 

The voice sounded normal to Hannibal’s ears but he was not about to take any chances and with one solid kick the door flew open. Hannibal raised his hand to stop the door rebounding back in his face as his eyes swept the room, taking in everything.

Face stood nervously in the middle of the room his old blue shirt hanging loose outside tight blue jeans, “What the hell are you doing Hannibal?” nervousness switched to defensive, but not Hannibal noted fear or anger.

“Why was the door locked lieutenant?” he growled, moving into the room.

“I didn’t feel too good. Didn’t want Murdock crashing in here when you got back from diner.” Even to his own ears it sounded lame, but Face plastered on a rueful smile directed at his friend as Murdock stepped into the room with B.A. and stood behind the boss.

Hannibal anxiously searched Face’s eyes, his body language anything that would confirm what he already felt, that he had been in time. What he saw sent short lived relief through him quickly replaced by anger at what he was pretty certain he had just stopped.

Keeping his eyes fixed on Face, Hannibal spoke to the two men just behind him, “Go and have diner, we’ll meet you later.”

Face ran his tongue over his lip and stepped forward trying to walk passed the solid presence of Hannibal in the middle of the room, “You know what, I’m feeling better, I’ll come with you.” 

As he stepped up, Hannibal placed his hand palm flat on Face’s chest to stop him, “You’re not going anywhere,” he said low and definite as he locked eyes with him, “You two, out now.”

Both B.A. and Murdock hesitated at the barked order, “That was not a request gentlemen,” Hannibal briefly took his eyes off Face as he spoke over his shoulder.

Murdock stood still, very unsure about leaving but BA pulled him out “Come on, we have to let them sort this out.”

He heard B.A. and Murdock leave and he kept his hand on Face’s chest feeling each deep breath that he took. “Where is it?”

Face blinked breaking eye contact, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he dismissed the question and started to step back away from the hand pressed against him. But the fingers curled into a fist gripping his shirt and keeping him in place.

“Don’t bullshit me that you’re in here with a locked door because you feel ill.” Hannibal stepped forward pushing Face back one pace as he did, “Want me to be specific? The pcp Face, the shit that you bought from that slimeball Ward. Where is it?” 

Face stubbornly remained silent and Hannibal seethed what the hell did he think he was doing? Didn’t he know what could happen to him taking that poison? The anger and worry took over and Hannibal pushed Face both hands now on his chest, pushing until he impacted with the wall with a soft thud. “Do not play with me here kid,” he stepped right into him, his whole body pushed up against him. The heated contact the most natural and uninhibited way they had touched since the whole nightmare had begun. Hannibal’s fear for Face automatically overriding all the barriers between them. “Where is it?” he growled.

Face answered with his eyes as his gaze slid from Hannibal over to the dressing table where he had hastily shoved the little plastic bag as soon as he had heard the colonel enter the house. He had no idea how he knew, but he did and there was no getting out of it.

Hannibal released him and strode over to the dresser, yanking open the top drawer and his eyes fell onto the small plastic bag sitting on top of the socks. Taking it out he held it up staring in disbelief at the two white tablets held within it. Glancing over to Face, he then turned away and paced around the room struggling to comprehend what the hell was going on. He stopped and turned back to Face who had not moved from the wall, he held the bag up again, “Why?”

Face pinched the end of his nose as he looked down at the floor, “I thought it would help,” he mumbled.

“Help? Help how? I don’t understand kid.”

Face looked up at him, “No neither do I,” he shot back despair in his voice. “I don’t understand what it was like for you, I don’t understand how you felt or how you could…..” He stopped suddenly and slumped back against the wall, the sudden burst of anger draining from him. “And I want to John. I want to understand,” he pleaded softly, “I need to understand so that I can stop feeling like this. So I don’t have to force myself not to pull away every damn time you come near me.” 

Shaking his head in disbelief Hannibal gestured to the clear plastic bag, “You think taking this shit will make that happen?” he questioned.

“Yes I do and I’ll try anything, do anything. I can’t lose you,” and Face knew that if he pushed Hannibal away again, that would be it, no coming back. And it was more than a possibility, he had not moved into the house, was keeping his distance and Face knew he was the cause of it.

“So you hole up in here,” Hannibal looked around the room, “You lock yourself in presumably to keep you from getting outside and hurting yourself or anyone else?” Face nodded in agreement, “But you could have just unlocked the door.”

“I was going to slide the key under the door and call Murdock when it was over.”

At the matter of fact statement that had layers of possibilities hidden underneath it Hannibal felt bile rise in his throat, “Of course you were, “ he said deceptively calm. Hannibal studied the man still leaning against the wall, and thought of the first time that he had seen him, a cocky, talented eighteen year old already bruised and battered by life. That teenager had grown into his friend, his xo and his lover and with their years together came a deep knowledge and Hannibal knew as he looked at him that Face was deadly serious. If they did not settle this now then Face would make all the right noises, say all the right things and then as soon as he got the opportunity he would just go off and carry out his plan anyway. So with his stomach churning Hannibal steeled himself and took a calculated risk. “Well now you don’t have to,” he said walking over to the door and closing it.

“What?”

Still facing the door, Hannibal closed his eyes and swallowed hard before hardening his expression, hiding all his uncertainty and fear behind a mask. He turned back and walked over to Face stopping just in front of him, not allowing him to move away from the wall even if he had wanted to. Hannibal grabbed his hand bringing it up and placed the bag in his palm, he curled Face’s fingers around the plastic holding his own hand over his lovers gripping tightly. “Here, you want to take it, then take it.”

“What are you doing?” Face asked his eyes narrowing as he looked from his hand back up to Hannibal.

“I’ll stay with you and I won’t let you get out of here or hurt anyone.”

“Are you crazy? There’s not even a lock on that door anymore, you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

“I’ll fix the lock, it’ll take five minutes, you won’t be able to get out and hurt anyone.”

“And what if I hurt you?” Face tried to move his hand, the feel of the tablets digging into his palm bringing home the reality of what he was planning to do and making him feel slightly sick.

Hannibal tighten his grip even more as he felt Face pulling away from him and he leaned right in, his face just inches away from his lover’s their eyes locked, “If you did it would be poetic justice right?” By pure force of will he held Face’s eyes not letting him look away, “And if you did, I’d know it would be the drug, not you,” he hissed forcefully. 

His words hung in the air between them as they both realised the truth of that statement. Only Face had a choice in what he did next, Hannibal had not.

The flash of pain in Face’s eyes was the first time that Hannibal realised that his other hand had taken hold of Face’s arm, gripping so tightly that his fingers were digging into flesh through the shirt fabric. He released the hold, recoiling as he saw what he was doing, the pain he was causing and memories of the marks Face’s fingers had made on his wrist slammed into his mind.

But Face moved quickly, bringing his hand up and clasping the back of Hannibal’s head, his fingers threading through the soft silver hair holding it in place. “You said my name,” he whispered, “Just before you let me fall, you said my name and told me to die. That’s what I can’t understand Hannibal. If you didn’t know it was me, why did you say my name?”

Pushing him off the bridge, that Face could understand, Hannibal thought he was fighting for his life, and he had attacked in a drug induced frenzy. The fall is what he had focused on, it appeared a cold and calculated act aimed directly at him and no matter how hard he had tried, he could not stop it from affecting his actions or driving the feelings of fear, resentment and betrayal.

Hannibal’s eyes fell away from him as his mind rushed back to that night and a memory forced its way in, “I saw you.” He recalled hesitantly at first until the memory became more solid, “I saw you, standing by the car, when I looked up I saw you there in the headlights and I had to get to you. I had to destroy the thing that was on the bridge and get to you. I’m sorry Temp but I swear I didn’t know it was you.”

Face rested his forehead against Hannibal’s as he took in what he was saying and he felt a weight lift from him, one that had stifled him and had driven him to this point in a desperate hope to understand. He moved his head and kissed Hannibal’s forehead, his hand still clasped in his lover’s hair, “It’s alright, it’s okay,” and as Hannibal’s words sunk in, the relief at the explanation suddenly made that possible.

But Hannibal pushed him back, “No it is not okay Face. Why the hell did you not tell me this? What were you thinking?” He released his grip on Face’s fingers and pulled out the small bag holding it up between them. “What was it that made you think that taking this was better than talking to me?” 

“Well you haven’t exactly been around much lately have you?” he shot back defensively, releasing his hold on Hannibal.

Feeling the jibe as a direct hit on the guilt he still felt Hannibal moved away from him and went to stand by the window looking down onto the swimming pool in the back yard.

Face closed his eyes and grimaced before moving to stand behind Hannibal, “I’m sorry,” he reached out a hand and laid it tentatively on his lover’s back. He saw Hannibal’s gaze move over to the pills he was still holding, “It’s alright, I won’t take them, I promise. I know now, know what you saw, I don’t need to take them.” He slid his hand around Hannibal’s body, winding his other arm around to embrace him from behind and rested his cheek against the back of a broad shoulder.

Hannibal felt the tension increase in the body that held him as he remained silent. Face might say that everything was alright, but that did not make it true and he knew it would not be as easy as just saying the words and all would be as it had been. The head was removed from his shoulder and Hannibal moved his hand up to clasp onto the arms encircling him, stopping the withdrawal he could feel coming. Instead he leaned back forcing the other man to stay close and support him and he revelled in the strength that held him. Not far off a match in height, Face did equal him in strength, they fit together perfectly in every way. Hannibal relished that, needed it and he was dammed if he was going to lose it. “I shouldn’t have left,” he admitted quietly.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Face agreed tightening his hold.

“I was wrong, I just…..” Hannibal sighed deeply before trying to explain, knowing how his lover would view his leaving. He might have been mad at him for going, but he would also take some of the blame onto himself. So many people had left him, something that he had sworn he would not do and he hated himself for leaving the way he had. “…..I didn’t feel in control anymore, what I feel for you is so overpowering sometimes and how I felt after what happened…..I really thought that a little space would help both of us, but…..” He shifted in Face’s arms moving round so they were face to face as he admitted, “I think part of me resented you for making me feel so strongly,” trying to give voice to how he had felt made it sound even more confused to him, “Ah that doesn’t even make any sense kid.”

Face snorted a bitter laugh, “I’m an expert at running away from feelings John, I think I understand,” Face raised a hand up, brushing fingers over Hannibal’s cheek as he whispered, “Remember how many times I ran from you in the beginning? I didn’t get on a plane and run, but I did pull back, so many times.” 

They closed the distance between them slowly, both moving forward until their lips touched in a feather light caress. Face moved his hand to thread through Hannibal’s hair intent on deepening the kiss but his lover pushed him gently away.

Hannibal saw the confusion in Face’s expression and all he wanted to do was let go and fall into his touch, but he could still feel a barrier between them, thinner than it was but still present. With Face, actions spoke louder than words. An expert at lying and conning, who had been lied to himself too many times to trust, it was what people did that mattered to Face. It always had and Hannibal had learnt that lesson fast back when he was first trying to figure out the best way to gain that trust. An idea formed in his mind and he pushed passed Face heading towards the door, “Come on, I have to…..”

“Where are you going?” Face interrupted suspiciously, a hint of fear in his eyes.

Hannibal could see what he was thinking and the fact that Face could doubt him so easily reinforced what he already knew. They were not there yet. Hannibal stepped back to him, forcing him against the wall beside the window hands cradling his face as he kissed him deeply and possessively. His heart lifted when the kiss was returned in full but he drew back and waited for Face to open his eyes. He looked into the familiar beautiful blue, “I am not leaving,” he promised, “I don’t repeat my mistakes. Trust me.” At Face’s nod, he continued, “We’re going on a trip.”

“Together?”

Hannibal smiled, “Together,” he confirmed with a nod.

______________________

Face jolted out of sleep when something hit him square in the chest and the hand that reached for his pistol stilled as his senses caught up with his reflexes and he saw Hannibal leaning in through the tent flap. He looked down to find a climbing harness draped across him which slid off as he pushed up to lean back on his elbows as he looked up into his lover’s unreadable expression.

“Come on kid, ” Hannibal’s face softened briefly before he turned and walked away and the tent flap fell back into place returning the enclosed space to its muted light.

They had hardly spoken last night as they pitched the tent and had both just climbed in and slept. Exhausted from a long drive in B.A.’s truck, borrowed by Hannibal firing off a quick text informing him and Murdock that the two of them were taking off for a couple of days. Hannibal had not said much about where they were going and Face had not asked, just content that they were going together and savouring that feeling after months of estrangement. It was not until the stop at the outdoor shop where Hannibal loaded the truck with equipment and supplies that Face really began to think about where there were headed. Mountains had been Hannibal’s succinct reply when he had asked and Face could have guessed that from the equipment. The rest of the journey had been edgy as Face wondered just what the hell his reticent partner had in mind.

The jangling sound of climbing equipment brought Face back from where his mind had wandered. He took a deep breath, nervously blowing it out though pouted lips he steeled himself and shifted out of his sleeping bag. Wriggling around on his back, he manoeuvred into the cargos and boots that Hannibal had purchased on his stop and snagged the harness and a t-shirt on his way out of the tent.

The suns glow was still that of sunrise but as Face moved over out of the camp to take a leak he could see more clearly the route that Hannibal had driven them up the night before. A low whistle escaped him as he saw just how narrow and wild the track was. Remembering the sounds of scraping that had accompanied their journey Face looked over to the truck. The scratches were numerous, some were actual deep gorges in the metal, “B.A. is gonna be pissed,” he mused.

“He’ll get over it.”

The confident voice came from behind him and as Face moved over to the water bowl and started a quick wash, his eyes flicked over to see Hannibal stepping into a climbing harness. He looked calm and professional, but he did not fool Face for a second, the colonel was as nervous as he was about carrying out his now obvious plan. The signs were there if you knew what to look for, the set of his shoulders, the slight tilt of his head and the small movement that meant he was worrying the inside of his lip with his teeth.

Face pulled on his t-shirt, moved over to join Hannibal and stepped into his own harness swallowing down his panic as he saw the sheer drop of the mountain and the immense scale of the landscape they were in. The valley of the national park stretched out far below them meandering its way through the mountains surrounding it. Face knew that his leg was not full strength yet, that he would have to rely on Hannibal more than he normally would as a climbing partner and if there was a problem they were a long way from civilisation. No one knew where they were, they did not even have a camping permit, but then Hannibal had never been one for following rules.

Face watched as Hannibal set up a safety rope securing it around a large tree before he walked over and attached two ropes to Face’s harness readying him for going over the edge. Face just stood, arms hanging by his side as he watched Hannibal set him up with the safety rope and then the main one that Hannibal himself would secure. Face had already seen that there were no holds at the top of the rock face, he would need Hannibal to support him as he went over and rappelled down. His heart started to pound and his mouth went dry as he moved cautiously back to the edge looking over before glancing back to Hannibal who was now set on his end, ready to take his weight when he went over. 

The sensation of falling and the terror he had felt when he had been desperately gripping onto the bridge assaulted him and he took two steps back from the edge, “I can’t do this. I’m sorry boss, I can’t do it.” 

Suddenly there was a firm presence at his back and Hannibal’s arms encircled him from behind, “I’ve climbed here before, there are crevices and hooks already in, about fifty feet down. All you have to do is get down there check them and secure your rope.”

All you have to do is trust me to get you down there safely was the unspoken plea that Face heard in Hannibal’s words.

Face’s eyes were transfixed on the edge of the rock and Hannibal could feel his chest expanding with each shallow rapid breath, “Come on kid, we’ve done more insane things you and I,” he coaxed tightening his grip and hugging him close. He bent his head down beside his lover’s ear, “We have to do this Temp,” he whispered before he released him and got into his position. He held his breath as he watched Face making the decision that would in effect decide their future.

Face stepped back to the edge and looked down, inadvertently kicking small rocks and dirt over the side as he did and he remembered the rush of air around him as he had fallen, the horrific helpless moment when he realised that he could do nothing to stop gravity taking him. He swallowed hard. He had never been afraid of heights before and knew if he did not confront this now, it would be so much harder the next time he tried. He could practically feel Hannibal’s gaze boring into his back as he stood there and the boss was right, he either trusted him or he didn’t and apart from their personal relationship, they certainly could not work together if Face backed out of this now, not in the crazy, fucked up job that they had always loved. He knew that he trusted Hannibal, it was time to prove it to himself as well as the man who was standing behind him barely even breathing as he watched him.

Face began accepting the fear he felt and channelled the adrenaline to force himself to move. He strode back a few paces, took out the flick knife from its holder on the harness and released the blade.

Hannibal watched in horror as in one smooth motion Face used his knife to slice through the safety rope. What the hell was he thinking? But he did not really have to ask that question, he already knew the answer. All or nothing, anything else was pointless, but without that backup his nerves faltered and he shook his head not at all sure if he could go through with this without the security of the second rope.

Face strode resolutely back to the edge but as he passed Hannibal he leaned in and placed the ghost of a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He turned at the edge, his back to the drop and securing the rope in his hands as he met and held Hannibal’s gaze.

“Ready?” Face checked.

“Face, no…..” but even has he said the words, Hannibal was bracing himself, pulling his eyes down to check the equipment one more time before meeting Face’s eyes again.

Face winked at him, tilting his head as he did so, “Ready?” He asked again.

Hannibal double checked his hold and nodded, “Ready.”

Panic rushed through Face in the instant that he went over the edge, but it settled when he did not fall. The rope was held taut, being let out in a controlled rate as he descended walking down the rock face. Hannibal had him secure, safe in the way that he always had, in a way that he never would have doubted a few short months ago.

Face made his way down finding the hooks Hannibal had told him would be there and after checking that they still held true from when they had been put in by climbers before him, quite probably by the colonel himself, he secured his line. He tethered himself to the solid rock, even as his feet found purchase in crevices and his eyes searched for hand holds. He signalled Hannibal and a rope shot down to hang beside him and he reached out, grabbed hold of it and secured it to the hook next to his own.

His rope to the top stayed taut instead of going slack as expected and Hannibal’s voice called down, “You’re tied off okay?”

Hannibal knew that he was, Face had given the signal but the rope holding fast between them did not slacken until Face called up an affirmative. There was a long pause as Hannibal set about securing equipment at the top to hold his own descent, already secured to the hooks by Face as a safety line against mechanical error. Face took the opportunity to look around him, swinging away from the rock and forcing himself to look straight down. He smiled as he realised that the fear of the height had gone. Stepping over the edge had been challenging to say the least, but now that he had done it and had been held securely by Hannibal, the fear of falling had no grip on him.

Hannibal’s large frame, looking insignificantly small against the backdrop of the mountain came over the edge and he made his way down to hang beside him.

Face’s beaming smile erased the worried, anxious look from Hannibal’s face and the colonel relaxed into a grin as he moved closer bringing their shoulders to rest against each other.

“So, what do we do now boss?” Face questioned still smiling.

Hannibal reached and pulled a pencil out of his pocket and sketched a diagram on the rock face with two stick figures. “There’s a route over to the left passed that overhang that brings us up about a mile over the other side of our camp, here see?” He pointed the way on his diagram. “So we climb Lieutenant.”

And that was how they spent the day climbing, re-connecting, working together, and trusting.

________________

It was late afternoon by the time they made it back onto solid ground and found themselves with a mile walk back to camp. T-shirts soiled with dust and debris from the rock, their faces had not escaped the odd smudge here and there, and although Face’s longer hair was mussed up from their hard climb, Hannibal’s had not escaped entirely either, little tufts of silver stubbornly stuck out instead of lying flat. Hannibal smiled as he reached a hand out to smooth Faces hair just as Face raised his arm to do the same for him and they locked eyes as they brushed through each other’s hair. The moment was broken as Face took a step forward and slumped groaning as he gripped his leg, his muscles cramping and the bone painfully protesting the way he had spent the day. A strong arm rested against his abdomen as Hannibal ducked in beside him and Face brought his arm up over his lover’s shoulders letting him support some of his weight as they walked back.

By the time they reached the camp, his leg had eased up and Face was on a high, the adrenaline from the climb and pure joy running through his veins at being with Hannibal like this, like they used to be combined to make him feel wonderfully free and happy. On top of the world in fact and he looked out across the vista beside him as they stood near the edge stowing away the equipment from their way down. A mischievous glint appeared in his eye as he glanced at Hannibal beside him and as he stepped over the last rope he pretended to trip waving his arms around as if trying to stop himself from falling. 

His heart in his mouth, Hannibal sprung forward yanking Face away from the edge and gripping his arms tightly even as the prank registered as he took in Face laughter. His fear turned to anger in a heartbeat and his grip tightened as he shook Face, “You bloody idiot. What the hell are you doing? You could have slipped fooling around like that.” He growled angrily.

Face’s laughter faded as he looked lovingly at Hannibal, “I knew you’d catch me,” the cockiness of his voice was at odds with the warm smile that lit his features.

Hannibal’s emotions swung back from anger to relief and warmth and he half smiled, fighting the urge to grin like an idiot. Face’s confidence and trust in him were back for sure and with it came the reckless attitude that drove him crazy but, he admitted to himself he had missed that just as much as he had the other. 

Both of their smiles faded as they gazed intently into the other’s eyes, each aware of the heat building between them which erupted into a searing hot kiss, Face welcomed in Hannibal’s tongue before pushing back and being welcomed in return. The back and forth duel continued as Hannibal pushed Face backwards towards their small two man tent. Pulling away from the kiss, Hannibal quickly yanked Face’s t-shirt up and off him, removing his own just as fast and tossing them both onto the ground where they lay entwined in a dusty heap. He felt hands in his hair pulling him back into the kiss even as he leaned back in to reconnect. The hands left his hair as Face wound his arms around his shoulders and neck anchoring himself as he moved his groin against Hannibal’s and moaned low in his throat. 

As they reached the tent they knocked into it almost stumbling and collapsing the whole thing. But they did not spare it a glance and only parted long enough to climb inside it inelegantly removing the rest of their clothes as they went, as finesse was sacrificed for speed.

They lay on top of the sleeping bags in the confined intimate space, the surrounding canvas giving them their own private world. Hannibal drew away from their kiss moving his mouth to lay kisses along his lover’s jaw loving the rough feel of stubble against his tongue, he lingered there before continuing his way down along his throat. Face moaned at the contact he had craved for months, getting lost in the sensation of being with his lover like this in a way that he had feared was lost to him and he threw his head back further exposing his neck.

Hannibal’s hand moved across Face’s abdomen, his fingers finding the scar and his mouth travelled down towards it. He felt Face’s hands in his hair now, trying gently to pull him off course so he batted them away and trapped them above his lover’s head with one large hand. He reached his goal and placed a tender kiss on the scar as he felt Face twist a hand free and then graceful fingers ran through his hair cupping the back of his head as he kissed a line along the surgeon’s mark in a silent act of contrition.

Face pulled him up swallowing the verbal apology before he could make it in a deep kiss which ended when Face pulled away slightly, “It’s over John. Leave it where it belongs, in the past.”

Hannibal nodded as he stared down at the blue eyes so close to his own and saw the truth in the whispered statement. The misery that had been with him so long that it felt normal was finally gone. It was as if the sun had reappeared after a long dark night and he closed the short distance between them, hungrily kissing the willing mouth.

Hands were everywhere as they mapped out familiar routes over each other’s bodies, needing to reaffirm by touch what they had spent the day rebuilding. Hannibal grunted as Face slipped underneath him for the second time as he was trying to manoeuvre himself into that position in the cramped space. He slumped over onto his back, reaching out an arm to pull Face towards him as he realised that they were both wanting the same thing. But Hannibal needed Face this time, needed to feel all that controlled power matching him, taking him, reclaiming him.

His sudden move away had Face leaning over him, concern and a quickly hidden flash of fear on his face. “What’s wrong?” 

Hannibal lay looking up at him his expression completely open, the plea and need written clearly for his lover to see, “Temp please….." but fingers traced his lips silencing the request as understanding dawned and Face smiled softly. Face’s cock grew even harder at the sight of Hannibal with lust filled eyes, kiss swollen lips and mussed hair looking at him so openly. Abandoning his own plans for the way this was going without any real thought, Face acted purely on the sight before him, leaning in and capturing Hannibal’s mouth.

____________

When Hannibal woke he found himself alone in the tent and he stretched languidly feeling completely spent, happy and thoroughly fucked. His tall frame barely fit in the tent and he adjusted his stretching to accommodate the compact space, his hands pushed up into the slanted canvas roof and the ends of his feet poked out of the tent flap. 

He listened for his lover but could not hear anything, still he knew that the kid would not have gone far. His mind drifted back to their energetic, passionate reunion and the proverbial cat with its cream would have nothing on the expression that he now wore. It was a good job that they were in the middle of nowhere he mused considering how vocal they had both been. Hannibal almost blushed as he thought about the moans that had escaped him with each thrust that Face had made inside him. The memory was eclipsed by that of his lover’s eyes when they had locked with his as he had come and the completeness that Hannibal had felt with the evidence of Face’s love inside him had not faded. Watching Face as he came was a thing of sheer beauty that always stole his breath away.

After Face had shifted off to the side to take his weight off of him, he had reached out an arm and held him close, drifting off into a sated sleep. Face’s promise that he was giving him thirty minutes to rest before wanting a rematch followed him into his doze and was what now got him moving from his comfy nest of sleeping bags to go look for him.

He poked his head out of the tent and spotted his errant lover’s legs protruding from the side ledge where he was obviously sat watching the sunset. Hannibal pulled on his cargo pants and wandered over with bare chest and feet to join him. His breath caught as he rounded the path and saw Face leaning back against the rocks, head slightly tilted back, his eyes closed and a look of bliss on his face. Also bare chested, the evening sun lit his tanned skin golden, catching the highlights in his hair and he looked stunning. 

Face opened heavy lidded eyes and rolled his head to look at Hannibal. He smiled tenderly and reached out his arm, his hand open, inviting, and Hannibal did not hesitate before reaching back and taking hold, gripping firmly. Face used his grip to pull himself forward inviting Hannibal to sit behind him. The colonel slide in behind him settling himself back against the rock with Face leaning back onto his chest. Hannibal moved his arms around his lover resting his hands over his stomach and Face moved his own hands to rest against him. Bending to lay a kiss against Face’s cheek, Hannibal then looked up and together they watched the sun set over the valley, casting glorious colours across the mountains around them.


End file.
